Can You Meet Me?
by Rachel3003
Summary: One hundred meetings. One hundred Steves and one hundred Natashas. How many time will they fall in love? How many they won't? Read to find out XD. AVENGERS BELONGS TO MARVEL STUDIOS.
1. IDEAS PLEASE!

**You ever heard of Black Mirror? I'm sure you have –everybody has– even if you've never watched it. I haven't, it doesn't really catch my attention even though half the people I know have recommended it. However, I have watched one episode, and one only:** ** _Hang the DJ_** **. And that's only because I read a Romanogers fic that was based on it: chapter 12 of the fic Time After Time by beezyland.**

 **It intrigued me, the idea that a computer can find your perfect match –with a 99.8% of actual success– just by your reactions to other people and the initial knowledge of your own person. But [dramatic pause], I'm not gonna make something like that. It's already been made, and my actual idea is different, even if it came from this. So I was thinking: what if I make Steve and Natasha meet over and over again and see how many time's they end up together? I'm not gonna write a thousand one-shots for this two to meet, but what about one hundred? Does that sound reasonable?**

 **If it does, then I'm gonna need your help. I may have a few ideas for at least ten or so meetings, but I'm going to need a little push with the rest. I don't need much, just the main idea: "Veterinarian!Steve meets Cop!Natasha when she bring her wounded, four legged partner to his clinic". That's it. It's all I need. Of course, if you would like to give me something more it would be appreciated and your work would be recognized (that actually goes without saying XD).**

 **You will get bonus points –as in I'll put your idea before the others– if you give me something innovating like a pair of astronauts or Natasha not actually being a damsel in distress. I don't want the typical "Steve is a crippled war vet and Natasha will heal his broken heart" cliché. Also, if your idea is deemed sexist by my board of directors –I actually have one. It consists of my BFF, my dog, her cat and myself– it will be discarded and I won't work on it. If I like it, you'll be informed and I'll ask if there's any special requests –only small details, people, be reasonable– that I should include in the shot.**

 **This is a serious request, I'm starting on the first shot as soon as I post this (which will be the previous mentioned idea of the vet and the cop) and I'll work on in along with Don't Forget and Back in Time. Help, as I said before, will be greatly appreciated and recognized.**

 **Thank you all and if you have an idea, don't be shy and leave the request either in the reviews or in PM.**

 **Kisses, Lovers!**

 **PS: Sorry, almost forgot: if you're a Guest, please leave me a way that I can tell you apart from the other Guests. I don't care what it is: a nickname, a quote, a city, the name of somebody famous or important, take your pick. I'll just say: "from the Guest Boston" or "from the Guest that once told me: 'Only I can change my life, no one can change it for me' by Carol Burnett". Thank you so much.**


	2. Veterinarian & Cop

**From:** Myself

 **Idea:** Veterinarian!Steve meets Cop!Natasha when she brings her wounded, four legged partner to his clinic.

 **Special Request:** I can do whatever I want, so none XD.

* * *

It's almost one in the morning and Steve sighs as the seconds tick by slowly. He set's down his sketchbook, the drawing of his mother's kitten snoozing in the yarn basket all but forgotten. He doesn't really know why he took the shift in Wanda's place. Maybe it was the pleading face, or maybe the bribing cookies she'd brought him yesterday and then again this afternoon. He looks at the Tupperware and resists for a few seconds before giving in and stealing another one. Although it's not actually stealing, given that they're his, but he's been trying to cut down on the sweets. Wanda knows he's been depriving himself of his personal ambrosia, and the little shit has used that to her advantage.

He looks around, trying to pass some to the others and not eat them all himself before remembering he's the only one there. They've been short on staff since Darcy quitted and Bruce moved to the bigger clinic in the city, leaving him and only seven more people to handle the smaller clinic in the outskirts of NYC. And only one person in the night shifts.

He sighs and looks down at the Tupperware before sticking it into the fridge so the chocolate chips don't melt. God, why does it have to be so hot?

Suddenly, the bell at the front door rings and Steve jumps from the table and trots down the hall. As soon as he bends the corner his eyes widen at the sight before him. A red-headed woman, probably his age, is setting down a dog that looks like it weights as much as she does on the floor and kneels beside it, settling it's head over her lap and petting its muzzle and cheek. He looks it over quickly: ragged breathing, quiet whimpers and the unmistakable sight of a bandage soaked with blood around its torso.

"It's ok, you're gonna be just fine. Shh, stay still, Katia, It'll be over soon. Shh…" her voice breaks through his reverie and he steps forward, getting the attention of the dog but not it's owner. It raises its black eyes at him and it's like it's looking into his soul before it shows him their teeth and growls. Or tries to, because as soon as it starts the vibrations jostle the wound and the snarl fades into a pitiful whine. The woman immediately raises her face to him and the fear clouding over her green eyes fades away. "Oh, Thank God."

Steve steps closer and kneels down to seem less threatening to the dog and see better what's wrong before realizing that he won't be able to do much with the bandage still in place. Instead, he proceeds to interrogate the owner as he gathers the sedative from behind the counter.

"What happened?"

"She got shot a couple day ago and she popped her stitches." Answers the woman. It makes him pause before extracting the syringe from the vial and approaching again.

"Shot?"

"Police, K-9 unit. Protection and substance detection." She informs, and she rises to her knees to show him the badge strapped to her waist. He hums and nods; yeah, that makes sense.

"I'm going to need you to hold her down." The redhead does as he says, murmuring soothing words at her dog to keep her calm. Steve sedates her without much trouble and just a minute later the big animal is K.O. "Done. Here, I've got her." He tries to pick the dog up, but she stops him.

"I can take her." He can hear the protectiveness in her voice, he can practically _feel_ it.

"I know you can, I saw you set her down. But depending on how you grab her, you may pop another stitch." She flinches at that, but relents. He's the professional, after all. He slides his arms around the dog and takes her into his arms, careful to not jostle her too much, and moves her to the exam room down the hall. He set's her down on the table and deftly cuts away the soggy bandage. "Have you ever brought her here?"

"No, and she's never been sick or injured before, so there was no need." He hums in response and leaves the room for a second, returning with a suture kit and a paper and a pen.

"I'll need for you to fill this while I stitch her up." He motions for the table at the other side of the room and se bends over it, writing down her personal information and the dog's. He stitches over the gash, the bullet just grazed her side but still left a pretty deep wound, and then bandages it. He's just finishing with it when the dog gives a little twitch. "Well, look who's awake." He grins when the dog's eyes roll towards him and he hovers his hand over her muzzle so she can take on his sent.

"Katia!" the woman is at his side in an instant and the canine starts wiggling, her tail thumping against the table. "Hey, there, precious! How's my warrior?" Katia whines and licks the fingers closer to her snout.

While the redhead gives her dog some lovings, Steve goes about discarding the used tools and soiled bandages and stitches. He goes to the table and skims over the formulary.

 **Owners name:** Natasha Romanoff

 **Pet's name:** Katia

 **Species:** Dog

 **Race:** Belgian Tervuren

There's also the identification number of the dog and all the contact data to Natasha – _that's a beautiful name_ – but he sets it down for the moment and concentrates on the redhead cooing at her dog. He's seen it millions of times by thousands of different people, but there's something in the way she does it that has him mesmerized. He clears his throat and approaches.

"I would like to keep her here for tonight, make sure that the stitches hold and give her a bag of fluids and blood. You could come get her tomorrow at noon." Katia rolls over as he speaks and lays belly down on the table in a lounging position, her back to her owner and her eyes trained on him. He offers his hand and she sniffs it and then slobbers all over it. A second later she raises her head, her ears erect and licks her chops. He chuckles and Natasha blinks at her dog.

"That's… weird. She's usually distrustful of strangers."

"Yeah, well, I have an advantage." He folds his hand into his scrubs' pocket and takes out a dog treat. Katia wiggles and proceeds to hypnotize the treat with her big, black eyes. He moves it around until she whimpers and both humans laugh before he gives her the bone-shaped treat. He scratches her neck and then pats her rump. She just moves her tail. Steve returns his eyes to Natasha. "So? What do you want to do? As I said, I think it would be best if I keep her, but she's stable so it's not a necessity."

"She'll be fine if I take her home?"

"Yes, but she'll be anemic for a few days. She lost a considerable amount of blood and you'll need to give her the double amount of food she usually has in the morning and tomorrow night so she gets her strength back. Maybe even the next morning."

He lets her think it over for a few minutes and uses the time to type the information into the system to have Katia registered in the database. When he looks over Natasha is bend over the canine and he can see the tan tail move from over her shoulder. He types in the shots that Katia has and then walks over to the pair. Natasha looks up and straightens, but keeps her hand running over her dog.

"I'll leave her here for the night, but I'll have to come around five to get her. That ok?"

"Absolutely. Don't worry, she's in good hands."

He sets an IV on Katia's right leg, and is amazed when she doesn't resist. He takes them to the back room, where all the cages for patients are. He kneels at one of the bigger ones, right next to one occupied by a big ass schnauzer. it get's up from it's slouched position and barks a greeting when it sees Steve.

"Hey, Goof! What are you doing up? You should be sleeping." Goof just pants and sits down. "You're gonna have a neighbor for tonight, ok?" he nudges open the door and sets Katia inside, hooks her with a bag of fluids and another of blood and then moves aside to let Natasha say goodbye. He moves around the room, checking on the other pet's. aside from Goof, there's also a cat, Whiskers; another dog, Luna; and a parrot, Gulliver.

When Natasha is done, he walks her to the exit and waves her out. He then returns to the back room to make a final check on Katia. She's munching on a toy that was already on the cage, but looks up at him when he approaches. He takes two of the dog treats and gives her one and the other to Goof. He moves to Luna and digs another one out of his pocket before burying his hand in the other pocket for the cat treats and a couple of seeds for Whiskers and Gulliver.

Once done, he retreats to the staff room, cracks open the Tupperware and takes two cookies. Then he moves to the table, picks his sketchbook back up and turns the page over, the pencil flying over the paper.

* * *

It's been a slow morning –the only customer actually being his mother to get Winter his last shot– and an even slower afternoon, so Steve has been able to finish the sketch for his mother and two more. The first one, of enchanting eyes and curly hair is tucked away in his bag, as far as it can get from Wanda's prying eyes and Bucky's sticky fingers and teasing smirk. The second one is already rolled with a decorative ribbon and inside a bag containing treats and some meds for Katia to take in the following days. Despite Natasha's comment about her being wary of strangers, Katia had been glued to his side from the moment he opened her cage to examine her stitches. She had even taken a liking to his mother, who had cooed at her and even taken some photos when she'd humored Winter and played with him while Steve prepared the shot.

That was actually what the drawing was: Katia lying on the floor with her muzzle between the paw of a kitten that could fit in a teacup.

He's in the staff room, letting Wanda manage the front and Bucky keep company to the pets in the back room, when the door bell rings and Katia's head shots up from her front paws, her ears straight and trained forward. He looks at the clock, 17:06. Not a second later, Wanda bursts into the room and closes it with her back. Her eyes are wide when they lock on him, but then she frowns and closes her arms over her chest..

"Mind telling me why is there a cop outside asking for you?" Steve just smirks and get's up, snapping the computer shut and clipping a leash on Katia's collar. She immediately gets up, but he shushes her.

"Easy, tiger." He pats her head and walks her out, kipping his movements smooth and the leash tight so the dog doesn't make any harsh movements.

But as soon as she sees Natasha, his efforts are in vain. Thankfully, she trots over and spares her dog of popping her stitches again. She drops to her knees and lets Katia slobber all over her, laughing all along. He stays rooted on the spot for a few seconds, mesmerized by the sight of the redhead in a police uniform. He knows everybody says that there's nothing hotter than a man in uniform, but _damn_ if women don't rock them too.

"Well, hello to you too, girl! Yes, yes, I missed you too." Her tail moves so fast that even her rump moves along with it and it even ahs Steve laughing. Natasha looks up and grins. "God, what did you give her? She hasn't been like this since she was a puppy!" the dog is practically throwing herself at her owner, whining and wiggling all over. Steve shrugs innocently.

"Not much, just a bath and some scratches. And she made friends with a kitten, he was here to get his last shot, and they played while I prepped it." She hums and drops a kiss between Katia's eyes. A second later she frowns and looks back up at him.

"I thought she'd be staying in that little cage all day…" Steve chuckles and shakes his head in exasperation.

"That was actually the idea, but after her morning bath she all but refused to get back in it. She's just been following me around all day. Today was thankfully slow, or she would've popped another stitch. I swear I've never met a dog so stubborn" Katia finally stops and looks back at Steve, her tongue falling over the side of her muzzle. "Yes, I'm talking about you, you fur ball." She barks and he returns it. She actually looks offended. Wanda returns with Bucky in tow.

"Steve, stop flirting with the dog, she's clearly not interested." Teases the girl, picks something from behind the counter and smacks Bucky's ass before returning to the back room. The man actually jumps, broken from his staring at Steve and Natasha and trots behind.

"Hey! What was that–?" his voice fades away and Steve just hangs his head and shakes it.

"I'm so sorry, they're usually more professionals than this; but as I said, it's been an extremely slow day."

Natasha just brushes it off and he proceeds to tell her the cost of the cervices and then they're on their way, but not before he can give her the little gift bag and the meds.

"Sorry, almost forgot. It's just a gift bag we give to all new comers and the meds she needs to take. You already paid for them, actually." He rubs his nape in embarrassment and she gives him a final smile before leaving.

The next time he sees her, it's entirely by chance. He's out with his mother, strolling through the park, when he hears a loud barking and a shout of alarm. He turns just in time to see the big, tan ball of fur before it collides with him and sends him to the grass. Next thing he knows, his face is drenched and the smell of an exotic dog shampoo fills his nose drills. He remembers that one.

"Katia! Down, girl! _Vniz_!" the dog finally obeys and get's off of him, moving to sit at his side and looking down at him with her tongue hanging out of her snout. Steve sits up and rubs the saliva off his face, shaking his hand towards the canine and sending a few droplets over her face. She snorts and sneezes. "God, I'm so sorry! I don't– wait… you're the vet." He chuckles and gets up.

"And you're the cop." He grins at her and looks down when he sees Katia zoom past him and to his mother. She crouches down and pets her.

"Well, hello, there! Long time no see!" Katia barks back a response and prances around her, her leash trailing behind her. His mother laughs. He returns his gaze to Natasha and offers her his hand.

"Steve Rogers." She snorts and takes it.

"Natasha Romanoff, but you already know that." He chuckles and lets go of her hand. She shifts her weight to a more relaxed position. "I really liked the drawing, did you make it?"

"Yeah, she was playing with Winter and inspiration just struck. I already have some pictures, so I just though you'd like it." He subs his nape sheepishly and then runs a hand through his hair. His mother's still playing with Katia, so she doesn't see him get all nervous before the redheaded police officer.

"Oh, I did. It's already framed and hanged on the wall of my bedroom." She smirks and he commits it to memory to sketch it later. "You forgot to sign it, though." Steve frowns in confusion.

"Really? I'm sure I did…" his mother suddenly appears beside him, giving him an exasperated look.

"As clueless as ever, I see?" he blinks, but she ignores him in favor of gifting Natasha with one of her broadest smiles. "Hi, I'm Sarah, this goof's mother." Natasha laughs and gives the older woman her hand.

"Natasha, this fur ball's owner." She nods towards the dog dutifully seated at her side. Katia looks up at her and moves her tail innocently.

They chat for a while, walking slowly through the park with a prancing Katia moving from side to side. By the time they finish their walk, they have exchanged phone numbers and as Natasha jogs away, Sarah shouts out at her that he'll give her call for a date. His ears are burning, but Natasha turns around and smirks at him.

"I'll be waiting!"

* * *

 _ **BONUS:**_

The next time Katia meets up with Winter it's been six months and they're at his mother's house for the official "meeting the boy/girlfriend's parents". And while the pets snuggle together on the floor after a couple hours of playing around the house, Steve and Natasha fall asleep on the couch curled around one another and Sarah Rogers doesn't miss the chance to snap a couple of photos of the cute moment.

"I'm going to have so much fun showing this to my grandchildren when the time comes!"

* * *

 **'Kay, first shot is done! What do you think? is it good? Bad? Be honest here, people, but please remember not to be rude!**

 **For the Guest 'KillerKat': I'm gonna take your idea –the royal thingy one–, so I'm gonna need your special request, if you have one.**

 **IF YOU WANT TO GIVE ME AN IDEA, REVIEW OR SEND ME A PM!**


	3. Detective & Baker

**From:** FanGirlForever19

 **Idea:** Baker!Steve meets Detective!Natasha when she investigates a murder that happened outside of his bakery.

 **Special Request:** Free Cupcake.

When her phone rings, Natasha groans and bangs her head against her bedroom's door. The one that she'd just closed two minutes ago after her hot shower and merely thirty minutes after she'd gotten home after the longest and most tiring case in her career. Nick can _not_ be serious. She schools her features, even though she knows her boss can't see her, and picks up her phone, sweeping her finger across the screen and accepting the call.

"Romanoff." She says in a clipped voice. Might as well let him know in some way that she's definitely _not pleased_.

"We have a dead body, Romanoff."

"No kidding…"

"I wouldn't have called you if I didn't have a good reason, detective, given the last case you just closed. But I know that you would've had my ass if you found out I'd given this case to someone else without even consulting with you first." She sighs and rubs her forehead. She opens the door to her bedroom and steps towards the dinning table where her badge and gun rest. She lives in a fifteenth floor of a building with max security, so there's little to no chance of someone getting their hands on the gun.

"Ok, who's the dead guy?"

"Ivan Petrovich."

The silence that follows is stifling. Natasha's ayes are wide, but unseeing. Images of her early childhood flash before her eyes: the long days and even longer nights at the orphanage in Russia, Ivan beating the children into submission, chaining them to their beds just because he could, forcing them to clean the building because he was too cheap to hire somebody to do it. It was an orphanage that got and gave children like candies, one kid didn't last more that two months in there before they got shipped to another one. She'd been lucky, sent in one of the few shipments to America, and even more lucky when she got adopted by a rich family along with a boy three years older than her.

"Romanoff?" she snaps out of her head, Nick's gruff voice even deeper through the phone. "You taking the case?" she doesn't even consider it.

"Yes."

* * *

Clint is already there when she parks her car, talking with one of the officers that had responded to the 911 call. She gets out and locks it before walking towards her partner, who also happens to be her brother. She nods at the officer that raises the tape for her and takes her place at his side before the body, already covered with a yellow, plastic sheet. Bruce, the ME, is kneeled beside it and raising the sheet to look at it. By his grimace, it doesn't look good.

"Hi, boys. What do we have?" Clint ignores her in favor of the conversation with the office, but that actually doesn't matter much. The question was meant for the doctor, anyway.

"Male in his fifties, from Russian origins. His ID is Russian, but he has a Green Card. Name's Ivan Petrovich." He hands it to her and she takes a good look at the emaciated man staring back at her with soulless eyes. _Yep, that him. That's Ivan_. "Multiple gunshot wounds to the chest and one to the…umm…" Bruce fidgets for a few seconds before spiting it out. "To the… crotch." She can't help the amused smile that tugs up her lips.

"Really now?" she snorts and Clint finally finishes his conversation to elbow her in her side.

"Behave, Nat." she raises her hands in surrender.

"Ok, ok… geez! Can't I at least be a little happy? The man was a monster!" Clint just shakes his head and sighs. Bruce just looks confused.

"Who is this guy again?"

"He used to run a couple of orphanages in Russia back when I was a child. He was ruthless. Don't really know what he's been up to in the past twenty years, though." Bruce nods and looks like he wants to ask more, but thankfully keeps his mouth shut. "Who called?"

"That blond Adonis over there." Natasha turns to Wanda when she speaks. She's walking towards them from the bullet shells left at the scene. She stops next to Natasha and points. The siblings turn in unison and Natasha's eyes widen.

The man really is an Adonis, as Wanda had put it, big muscles but not too much, broad shoulders, baby blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. He's dressed in a tank top, showing his biceps and even from here she can see the kind but strained smile on his lips as he talks with Wanda's partner, Sam.

"Woof!" there's a long silence following and she blinks. "Was that out loud?" Wanda hums and Natasha grimaces. Clint groans.*

"Nat, I really don't want to know when and why you're turned on, so please…" Wanda snorts and kneels to look under the plastic.

"So, mind telling me why are we taking this case when I could be snuggling beneath a ton of blankets at home with my cat?" Clint and Natasha share a look.

"You fill her in, I'm gonna take over Wilson." As she steps away from Ivan, she hears Wanda protest behind.

"Hey, that's not fair! I saw him first!" Natasha looks back and winks.

"Didn't hear you call dibs! Besides, you already have Viz eating out of your hand." Clint shakes his head in exasperation. Why did he think partnering with his sister was a good idea, again?

She walks across the street, quietly directing stray officers and rookies to positions or giving them a task to complete. When she reaches Sam, she touches his arm to gain his attention, getting Adonis' as well.

"I'll take it from here, Wilson. I need you with Barton and Maximoff." He looks puzzled for a second, so she elaborates. "The victim is known to Clint and I, he'll brief you."

"Oh, right." He nods at the man. "A pleasure Mr. Rogers."

"Likewise, Detective Wilson." _God, even his voice is hot!_ The man turns to her, the strained but still genuine smile still in place, and offers her his hand. "Steve Rogers."

"Detective Natasha Romanoff." She shakes his hand and immediately get's back to business. A pretty face and even a prettier body won't get between her and her work. "So, Mr. Rogers, you were the one to call the police, correct?" the man nods and hums. She takes out her pad and writes his name in it to run him through the database later in the precinct. "I suppose you've already told my colleague what happened?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Did you know the victim?" the man frowns for a second, as if he's thinking it over, before nodding.

"He's been a regular of my bakery for the last month or so, actually. Always ordered the blueberry muffins and a coffee. Black, one sugar, brown." Natasha pauses in her scribbling to look up at him. He chuckles and rubs his nape sheepishly. "Eidetic memory. I pretty much remember everything I see, hear, smell…" he trails off when she nods.

"Yeah, like that clever guy in that TV show." she waves away his puzzled look, not really having the time to explain her random thoughts. "Did he ever leave a name? Forgot something in the bakery?"

"He used the name Andrei, but he usually reacted slowly when being called, so I suppose it was an alias."

"You didn't find that suspicious?" asks the detective, thinking the man had to be clever to notice such a thing, but also incredibly dumb if he let that slide without a second glance. But Steve just shrugs, unapologetic.

"You'd be surprised by how many people do it. It's usually celebrities or fictional characters, but there's also been people that just feel like saying another name. The man was weird, sure, but I had no reason to call the cops on him just for using a fake name in his bakery order."

"Oh…" she nods then. That… actually makes sense. "And forgotten items? Or did he ever say or do something out of the ordinary?" he inhales deeply and scratches his neatly trimmed beard.

"He was eccentric, very peculiar with how he wanted the things put on the table and how the coffee was made. He would wait at the counter and watch me or Bucky make the coffee as if making sure we did it right or something." He pauses and nibbles on his lip. "And I don't think he ever forgot anything, he even cleaned the table himself with the napkins before he left." Natasha nods and writes it down.

"Who's Bucky?"

"Oh, Buck's one of my baristas. He's always on the morning shifts and Andrei or whatever his name was always came around ten, so we were the ones that always served him." She hums, but the confused frown still remains in her face. Steve grins, used to the reaction. "His middle name's Buchanan, and he doesn't let anyone but his mother call him by his actual name, so we call him Bucky." Natasha snorts at that and Steve grins, as if he's pleased that he made her smile.

"Did you get a good look at the shooter?" she asks next after a short silence. Steve hums and nods.

"Yes, I already gave a description to Detective Wilson."

"And do you think you could describe them to an artist?" the man blushes then, and Natasha blinks. He chuckles and combs his fingers through his hair.

"I could do the sketch, if you want. It would save some time." She tilts her head to the side, a smile slowly tugging up his lips. His blush darkens.

"You draw?" he hums and affirmative and clears his throat awkwardly.

"I could make it tomorrow and I could take it to the precinct or somebody could come get it."

"… That would actually be a great idea! It would save us so much time. I'll come pick it up tomorrow afternoon. Oh, and please tell your friend to be there, I would like to ask him a couple of questions, too"

"Ok, I'll have it ready by then and he'll be there."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rogers." She gives him her hand and he shakes it.

"Likewise, Detective."

* * *

"Ok, so let me get this straight," begins Clint the next morning after they have the timeline and all the info set on the digital board. "Petrovich has breakfast at ten in the Rogers' Bakery like he's done every morning for the past month, only that today he appears again ten hours later, being chased by a blonde woman who shoots him two times in the chest, one in his nether parts, and then three more to the chest. Then she disappears leaving our Saint Steven Grant Rogers to call the cops and wait an hour after closing time to answer all of our questions without complain while standing ten meters from a dead body. Is that all?"

"You forgot the part where Nat has the hot's for the guy and did something that could cost us a shit ton of paperwork if Fury finds out." Pipes in Wanda, causing Sam to burst out laughing and Natasha to groan.

"How many times do I have to apologize for that? He just looked so insecure, I just couldn't say no!"

"I don't care that the guy was perfection personified and that his puppy eyes made you melt, if I have to cancel my weekend plans cause I'm doing paperwork to cover your screw-up, you'll be the one telling my mother why her son can't be there for his baby sister's eighteenth birthday." Mutters Sam, not really upset. He really doesn't want to go to a party filled with teenagers, but his mother would have his head if he failed.

"Don't worry, Wilson, you'll be at your teenaged party, don't worry. If it comes to it, I'll do your part of the paperwork, ok? You'll just have to sign them." There's a moment of silence, but then the rest of her team agrees and they go back to case solving.

They spend the day cooped up in the precinct, running down leads and calling Ivan's old associates to see if he'd been still in the orphanage business. Turns out he'd been until last year, when he disappeared from Russia without a trace. By the time noon rolls around, the team has run out of leads to follow and they are currently waiting for the take out guy to bring them up their lunch.

"So… that's it? There's nothing else we can do?" asks Sam, throwing his head back to watch his partner as she makes a paper plane upside down.

"Without leaving the precinct, yes. We still have to pick up the sketch from Saint Steve the baker." Natasha groans at Clint's comment.

"I still don't get why you call him 'Saint'."

"Remember that when we ran him through he database we found nothing? Not even a parking ticket?" Natasha nods and Clint falters for a second. "Well, that's… actually why. Nothing more." Wanda snorts and throws the plane to Sam.

"He _was_ kinda dreamy…" sighs the youngest of the team and Sam is the one to snort this time.

"He was definitely not my type. Blond? Nuh-uh. Brunette's are so much better."

"His eyes, though!"

" _That_ I won't deny."

"Is Clint your type?"

"Married and with three kids? Definitely not." Natasha has to laugh at that, and then the food arrives and the subject is dropped in order to eat.

Once they finish, they laze around for some more, pretend to work when Captain Fury passes in front of their desks and then Natasha grabs Wilson and they leave the precinct to go to the bakery. They speculate for the entirety of the trip and when they park with the car facing the bakery, Sam's mouth falls open.

" _Who_ is that _stud_?" Natasha directs her gaze in the same direction, and her eyes fall over a man with shoulder-length hair pulled up in a bun, a light shadow of stubble, blue eyes and full lips. He's wearing a sleeveless shirt, leaving uncovered the red star tattooed on his upper arm and the black and silver lines that run all over his arm, as if it were robotic.

"I think that's Bucky, one of the baristas. You can take over the interview, if you'd like." He grins at her and she laughs.

They exit the care, locking it, and then they cross the street to the bakery. The door jingles when they enter, drawing both Bucky's and Steve's attention. While Natasha and Sam inspect the local, Bucky motions Steve over.

"Are those the cops you told me about?" Steve hums an affirmative and Bucky let's loose a low whistle. "Yeah, I thought you'd say that." He pats his friend's back and steps ahead. "Detective Romanoff, Detective Wilson, welcome!"

"Mr. Rogers, good to see you again. Do you have the drawing ready?"

"Yeah, it's right over there. If you'll follow me." He motions to the other end of the counter, where customers usually pick their orders. Natasha motions Sam towards Bucky and the man nods, going over to introduce himself and ask him questions about Ivan Petrovich. She follows the blonde man. "Here it is. There's not as much detail as I would like, but it was dark and she was at the other side of the street, but I hope it'll be enough to help you guys catch her." He takes a sketchpad and opens it, taking an already ripped out page and then closing it with a snap. However, she still catches sight of big eyes and curled hair. Was that… her?

Steve hands over the drawing, and she take it, marveling in all the details even though he said there weren't many. She's so caught with admiring the fineness of the way he draws, the fluidity of the pencil strokes that she takes almost a minute to recognize the woman in the picture. Blond, straight hair to the shoulders, blue, emotionless eyes and a hard set of a smooth jaw. Thin lips and button nose.

"Oh my God…" she whispers, making Steve frown in confusion.

"Is there something wrong?" she looks up at him, her eyes wide.

"I know her, she used to live with me." She set's the drawing down on the counter and takes her phone out, dialing Clint's phone and not even letting him say anything before she's speaking over him. "Clint, her name's Yelena!"

 _"Who?"_

"The killer," she takes the drawing again and takes in the woman's face. She may be twenty years older now and with a new scar in her forehead, but this is the same girl that slept next to her for the month she spent in Ivan's orphanage. "Her name is Yelena Belova, or at least was the last time I saw her. I'll send you a picture of the sketch. Put up a BOLO."

She send the picture and then set the phone aside. When she looked back at Steve, he had a muffin set on a little plate before her. She blinks at it and then looks up at him with a smile. He grins.

"Cupcake on the house, for solving a murder in…" he looks at his watch. "less than twenty-four hours." Natasha laughs, but reaches into her jacket pocket for her wallet.

"I'll take the cupcake, but I'll pay for it." He immediately shakes his head, waving her money away. "Mr. Rogers, I can pay and will pay for that muffin."

"I know you can, I Googled you. Heiress to a third of the Stark fortune, that's quite a load." He laughs outright at her surprised expression and pushes the fluffy treat into her palm. "Still, I insist. Besides, Bucky just invented the blend, so we need people to try them out. You like banana, coconut and chocolate chips?"

"Love it." She smirks up at him and he blushes. "But I'll eat it later at the precinct, that way I can make my partner green with envy. He loves coconut."

Steve gifts her a half smirk and offer her the opening of a little paper bag. She drops the cupcake in and he take it away to seal it. She chances a look at Sam, only to find him blushing at something the proud-looking Bucky said. Steve comes back a minute later and gives her the bag. She's about to thank him when she hears the distinct sound of Sam laughing. She looks over and sees that Bucky is bend over the counter and has his hand over the detective's arm. They're both laughing and it make her grin. She raises her phone and snaps a picture before turning to Steve with a mischievous grin. He grins back and snickers.

"It was great to see you again, Mr. Rogers. I'll make sure to come back and tell you how it was."

"I'll be waiting." He blushes, and she winks at him to make it darker. It actually works. She calls Sam over and they both leave the bakery. It's not until they're seated on the car, Sam on the driver's seat this time, that she notices that he's pouting. She snorts. "Oh, stop pouting, Wilson. You can just come back another day and continue with your flirting."

"I wasn't–! Ok, yeah, I was flirting. But he flirted back! And he's _so hot!_ Besides, I saw you with Saint Rogers, you looked like you were going to climb him like a tree any second. Anyway, whatcha got there?"

"Banana and coconut with chocolate chips muffin." Sam actually gasps and turns to her when they stop at a red light.

"Tell me you grabbed one for me."

"Sorry, Sam." She _giggles_ when he groans and presses his head over the stirring wheel. She decides to open the bag then, eat half now to kill Sam and then eat the other half in front of Clint. Win-win. But when she opens the bag, the first thing she sees are a couple of what smells like cinnamon cookies and then, beneath those, her muffin. There's a little folded piece of paper on the side, and she takes it out, unfolding it as Sam starts driving again.

 _I know you'll want to kill me for this, but hope you like cinnamon too ;P. BTW, how does karaoke night at Levy's sound? I promise I'll bring Bucky if you bring Sam :D._

And beneath that his phone number and a kissy face. She thinks it over for a few seconds before grabbing her phone, saving his number in her contact list and then opening the texting app**.

 **You've got yourself a date, Mr. Rogers.**

He answers a five minutes later, just as Sam is parking in front of the precinct.

 _I can't wait. And Steve, please._

 **Natasha, then ;P.**

* * *

 ** _BONUS:_**

Natasha unlocks pushes open the door, the bell announcing her entrance. The sharp _ding_ s make her flinch; God, what a long day it's been! But the case is finally closed, and she can rest and just cuddle in her couch for the rest of the weekend. She's going to bring Nick an extra big slice of carrot pie on Monday. She turns to lock the door again and waves around the tables and then behind the counter, into the kitchen and up a flight of stairs. Once she's standing before another closed door, she selects a different key and jams it in the hole, turns it and then pushes it open with a tired huff. She drops the keys on the bowl, closes the door with her foot and then toes of her shoes. She drags her feet all the way to the living room and the sofa, where she climbs over the lumpy and firm but warm pillow there. it grunts and coughs at the sudden weight, before rearranging it's position and wrapping it's arms around her. She cuddles closer, nuzzling her face in the crook of the pillows neck and finally settling down. There's a minute of silence and then…

"You closed the case?" she hums. "That hard, huh?" humming again. "Do you want the muffin now or after dinner?"

* * *

 **AAAAND DOOONEEE! So? What do you think? Shitty, passable, ok, good or super good? And after this… one that's closer to their actual story. Alwayssg1, shh! Don't say a thing! But I'm going to continue with Back in Time and Don't Forget, so it might take a while. Be patient, ok? Because it'll come!**

 ***- This is actually a kind of copy of a NCIS scene, you can see it in YouTube, a vid called _NCIS Something Blue 14x23 – Sneak Peek 1._**

 ****-I really don't know what texting app people use in the US, and I really don't want to assume it's the same that we use in Spain, so I'm not gonna say names.**

 **PS: Oh, almost forgot! No more police related please! At least for the moment, ok? We already have two XD.**

 **And remember: KEEP SENDING ME YOUR IDEAS! REVIEW OR PM!**


	4. Captain & Spy

**From:** Alwayssg1 from

 **Idea:** Russian spy!Natasha is undercover with a team research in the North Pole when they discover Captain America.

 **Special Request:** None.

* * *

Another yawn escapes from Natasha's throat as she listens the team of scientists ramble on and _on_ about the most recent data acquired. Something about a possible new form of life? She doesn't know, she zooned out about an hour ago. She's relieved that her assignment is to pose as a doctor –the medical kind–, so she doesn't need to know what all the scientific slang means and, in turn, have to keep up with the chatter. She really whishes she could call to HQ and have them extract her –this is a serious waste of her time–, but they've been cut out for a week now due to a blizzard. Glòria said it was normal and not to worry, they wouldn't need supplies for at least a year (the Boss had stocked up good), so all they can do is wait.

She looks around the room: Glòria, the lead scientist, is a Spanish –Catalan, better said– woman that decided to study abroad in the USA and ended staying. Single, lives alone and has a dog named Biel. Not a threat whatsoever. The brothers Dan and Kevin, scientist and nurse respectively, are two Kansas boys that won't part even if a gun was pointed at them. They're both _obviously_ single, live together and even swap their clothes when the mood strikes them. Not a threat either, but quite disturbing.

Her eyes move to the opposite side of the room. There stands a gorilla of a man, and it still surprises her that he can fit through the doors even if it's been two months of seeing him do it. Although at first glance you would think he's there for protection, he's actually another one of the scientists, the mathematical one. Name's Richard, dating a guy a third of his size and was in the process of searching for an apartment together when the trip to the Artic fell into his lap. The guy may be big, but she could drop him with her pinkie, so no threat there. The last one of the scientists is another woman, not much taller than Natasha. Ailís is her name, from Irish provenance. Her hair is red, but more copper like than the blood red that is Natasha's. She's betrothed, her wedding in eight months. And the girl may have taken self-defense classes and know martial arts, but Natasha knows she can snap the woman like a twig. She isn't the best just because she's hot, she was trained by the best organization Russia has – _had_ –, and she's the one solo agent everybody wants for their mission. It's a real pity that it won't last for much longer.

She eyes the last one of the team, the security guard that's just there to make sure that the scientists don't mess anything up, not that he would know with his high school degree. Really, who puts a guy that doesn't know what most of the equipment does to make sure a bunch of guys don't break it? _Please_. The man's name is Raúl, Argentinian and with a scowl that has everybody walking at least two meters from him. He might be a problem if things go south, but not much. Big muscles, but no technique nor discipline. Easy.

And then there's her, or better said, her cover: Natalia Orsatti, Italian origin and moved to the States five years ago. Has a cat named Chiaro and likes to check on him regularly on a chatting site with her roommate, Robyn, who is actually a KGB operative keeping tabs on her and passing along her reports.

Suddenly, one of the machines starts beeping and there's a flurry of movement as all the scientists rush to it, speaking a mile a minute and it makes Natasha's head start pounding. She can't wait for this assignment to be over. She desperately wants to grab her lunch and retire to the medical wing –if it can be called that when it's only two rooms and an office–, but her assignment is to know everything this bunch of brains with legs discover and she can't exactly do that from her office.

"It looks like metal, don't you think?"

"Yeah, and it's big."

"Must be around ten meters long and two wide, if the dimensions in the screen and the distance between the object and the drone are accurate."

"Move the drone, Ailís, get it closer. Can you switch on the lights at this depth?"

"And turn on the camera, lets see what it is."

The woman moves to the big plasma with the remotes to the drone and pushes a few buttons. Natasha spoons up the last of the porridge they had for dinner and turns to the TV when it lights up. It's a screen of total darkness until Ailís activates the night vision at everything turns green. Looks like the lights can't be turned on, after all. At first she doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary, the glaciers, some fishes and one of those luminescent squids that makes a pure, white dot on the screen until it moves away from the camera. But then Glòria points it out and she sees it. A slightly darker line between two blocks of ice. It's long and thin and has a protuberance on one end. That's… weird.

"Move around, it has to be bigger than it seems. The sensors are going wild." The image blurs as the drone shifts and approaches and when it returns, Natasha gasps and jumps from her seat in the table. Everyone turns to her, as if it is a normal thing to find a giant, boomerang shaped, metal thing sunken in the Artic. But it's not, and she recognizes it. It's…

"Oh… my… God…" her eyes are wide and glued to the screen.

"I know it's shocking, but I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of it." Speaks Kevin in a sarcastic voice. He must still be miffed for the several rejections he's gotten from her. She ignores him and looks around the room, nobody seems to realize just what they've found.

"You really don't recognize that?" she asks, exaggerating the Italian accent a little. Rick blinks up at the plasma, furrows his brows and shakes his head. So much for patriotism. "That's the Valkyrie!" Dan just shrugs. Turns out that just because they are science brains it doesn't mean they are familiar with world history. Who woulda thought? "The plane Captain America crashed into the Artic! Are you guys serious right now?" she was actually getting offended, how could somebody be so smart but so asinine at the same time?

"Didn't he crash into the Antarctic?" she almost facepalms.

"Right, cause that's so much closer to Germany or North America than the Artic." She deadpans and Kevin blushes in embarrassment.

"Oh, God she's right!" they all turn to Ailís, who has piloted the drone to the cockpit of the plane. The camera is pointed right at it and they can see the silhouette of a big man in the green shadows. "We found Captain America!"

* * *

The following hours are a blur of orders, machinery being moved and failed attempts of contacting with the bosses. They finally decide to lower on of the big drones to get the body out, because the exploratory one isn't big enough to break the glass and lacks the arms to grab the man. The problem is that the big drone doesn't have a camera, so they have to bring the small one up, attach it to the big one, and then lower them back beneath the ice. Natasha is sent to the medical bay to prepare the freezer there for the body, and she reluctantly follows the orders. Because, c'mon, she may be Russian but the opportunity of seeing a perfectly preserved, seventy year old body is not one presented every day.

Turns out that it's not what they expected. Not even an hour later after being sent away, a breathless Dan burst into her office, where she's retired after making room in the freezers.

"He's alive, Doc! Captain America is _alive_! C'mon, hurry!" he yanks her up from her chair and rushes to the exam room just as the rest of the team runs inside, wheeling in a stretcher with a big block of half melted ice on it.

She's quick to confirm the scientists' discovery and then starts ordering the team around, telling Ailís and Rick to start breaking away the ice and the rest to bring every heat-source available in the compound, from blankets to space heaters. She even tells them to move on of the stored beds into the other room, someone will have to stay with the captain 24/7 to monitor him. And when she see the grimaces all around the room, she knows that that someone will be her. She decides not to dwell on it for this moment and starts arranging the space heaters around the man, setting them on low to thaw him slowly.

"Shouldn't we turn those to the highest setting?" her eye twitches, the only external manifestation of her annoyance. Is this man serious? She turns slowly, and Kevin shrinks under her stare.

"You're joking, right?" she deadpans and the man gulps. "You have to warm the body slowly, from inside so as not to cause sever cardiac damage. That's basic knowledge for hypothermia treatment, how could you not know this? Are you even a nurse?"

"Hey, stop it! It was just a mistake, leave him be!" objects Dan, only to be pinned down beneath her stare.

"A mistake that could have cost this man's life at worst, left him without limbs or incapacitated at best." She turns back to the 'nurse' and glares down at him. "Next time, try learning something in collage instead of kissing every ass that required it to graduate. Get out, after that I don't even think you can be trusted with a simple IV." She returns to her patient, and doesn't even raise her eyes when she speaks to Dan. "And if you have anything to say, you better keep it shut inside until Captain Rogers is stable. Now help Ailís and Rick, or get out of our way."

* * *

It takes approximately four hours to thaw the ice block the captain was encased in. After that, Natasha dismissed the scientists to return to their duties –Raúl was starting to get really fidgety– and continues alone. She undresses him, dresses him back in scrubs –the only thing that she can find that will fit him– and hooks him up with a bag of fluids. It has been a tedious work for one person, but she refuses to let Kevin back into the medical bay, no matter how much he and his brother raved and cursed at her. She has a job to do, and she can't do it with that useless excuse of a nurse hindering her.

Captain Rogers is laid out in the bed, a little cramped with his big frame, but there's nothing she can do until the team convinces Raúl to help them move her bed into the medical bay. She's going to stay here anyway, so they might as well make use of it. However, the Argentinian man hasn't been in a cooperative mood, so the American hero will have to stay in the little, hospital bed.

He has tubes connected to his arms pumping him full of fluids and one under his nose to help him breath. She has no idea how his lungs aren't filled with water, but it certainly has made her job easier. He's covered with every blanked that wasn't necessary for the rest and has a spare space heater close to him. And even with all of that, he's still freezing when she touches him and his skin has an almost bluish translucent quality to it. She can see the network of veins and arteries all over his body and the rest is a deathly pale blue. His lips are almost purple and his eyes have a whitish tint in them. She suspects blindness, but she won't be able to confirm it until he wakes up. _If_ he ever does.

His heart is steady, and so is his breathing and blood pressure, all his vital organs are functioning properly and his core temperature is going up, although slowly. If it keeps steady, he'll be back to a normal in a day or two.

She moves away from the bed to sit in the other one. She takes out the laptop and tries to connect with HQ, but it's hopeless. Not that it's so important, she's been giving them false updates with half-bogus information for some time, mostly to spare an innocent life, but she still has to keep up appearances. She's pretty sure HQ is aware of the blizzard, but she still prefers to leave messages every day or two so they don't get suspicious.

A change in the constant beeping in one of the machines brings her back from her musing and she's instantly up from the bed and at his side. His heart rate is getting faster, but that's actually a good thing. It was constant, but kind of sluggish, so the fact that it's increasing speed was a good sign. His body starts trembling too, and she nods in satisfaction. If his body has enough energy to start trying to heat itself, that means he's getting better too.

She resets the alarms to just detect if everything drops or increases too fast and decides to turn in for the night. She goes to the nightstand, where she's moved half of her clothes and starts changing. It's not like the Captain will care, or that she is self-conscious of her body. Once she's dressed in one of the oversized t-shirts she stole from the men's tailor and shorts, she gets in bed and reads another chapter of the latest novel she's been reading before killing the lights and gets comfortable to sleep.

"G'night, Captain."

* * *

The frantic beeping of several machines wakes Natasha at the ungodly hour of five thirteen in the morning. However, she doesn't have time to rage about it because a flurry of movement from the other bed has her standing in an instant. Captain America is flailing in his bed, milky eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream. She's by his side in an instant, covering his hand with her own. He lashes out, and he would've stricken her if she'd had lesser reflexes. She throws herself over him, restraining him to the bed. He's shaking all over, and trying to buck her off of him with everything he has.

"Captain Rogers, it's ok, you're safe!" she tells him, shifting her weight to keep him grounded but without hurting him. "Captain, stand down! That's an order!" he goes limp immediately and she sags in relieve. The last thing she needs is a super soldier in a rampage. She sees as his mouth tries to form words, but nothing comes out but air. She's moves off of him and gets a scope before returning to his side. "Open wide, Captain Rogers." He does and she turns on the light. "Your vocal cords are atrophied and half frozen still. Don't worry; your voice will come back with time and a lot of hot beverages." She pats his arm and he stutters in a breath before raising his left hand to his eyes. She intercepts it and lays it down over his stomach before turning his face towards her and passing a flashlight over them. They don't react in the slightest, but the blue behind the white sheen is slightly more visible. "I'm afraid I can't confirm the recovery of your eyes. It looks like they improved since you got here, but we'll just have to wait and see." The man nods and tries to relax back into the bed. "Would you like some water? Tea?" he nods again, and she realizes her mistake. But he's one step ahead of her and raises two fingers. "Tea." More nodding and she smiles. For a man that just woke up from a sixty-year-old sleep, mute and blind, Captain Steven Rogers is taking it very well. "I'll be right back. Don't move much, ok? Your body's still half frozen."

When she returns with two mugs in a tray with the teapot, sugar and milk, the captain is right where she left him, and she sets the tray on a little table before wheeling it to his side. He takes a deep breath and a little smile lifts his lips. Looks like his sense of smell is intact.

"Would you like milk in the tea?" he scrunches up his nose and shakes his head. She chuckles softly at his obvious distaste. "Sugar?" when he nods, she ads, "How many cubes?" he raises a single finger and she drops one in a mug before filling it and then her own; she'll add the milk later. She stirs it and sits in the edge of the bed. The man starts at the sudden closeness, but relaxes quickly when she grabs his hand and curls it around the mug. She moves it until the edge rests over his lip before getting up and doctoring her own tea. But as soon as she turns to the man, she's laughing again. "You want more sugar, Captain?" his head moves up and down rapidly, extending the mug _slightly_ to the right of her position. Not bad. She takes it, drops another cub –adding another half just in case– and stirring before repeating the earlier process of putting the mug to his lips. "Go slowly, you have to warm up steadily. That's it, little sips." The man smiles at her, or at her ear, and she returns it, even though he can't see it. "You're welcome."

She leaves hers to cool and starts examining the captain, keeping her questions simple and probing around his body. She notes the rosy tint in his cheeks, and she suppresses her chuckle. Besides being the hottest man she's ever seen –and she's seen a lot– he's adorable too. A killer combination. His hand covers hers where it's checking the IV, and she raises her eyes to see him offering her the empty mug. She takes it with her other hand.

"You want more?" he shakes his head and opens his mouth to say something, only to remember that he can't. He practically pouts for five seconds before his whole face lights up. He fists his hands and brings them down, as if he's hitting the sheets with his arm, then points at her with his left hand, points then to the ceiling with his hand at the side of his head and then points at himself. It takes her a few seconds to comprehend that he's using sign language.

 _"Can you understand me?"_ he makes the interrogation mark as an after thought and she does laugh then.

"Yes, I can understand you." He immediately launches into a series of movements and she's quick to grab his hands to stop them. "Easy there, tiger! Remember what I said about not moving much?" he cringes and nods. Natasha then inspects his arms to make sure he hadn't ripped anything or unhooked the IV and is pleasantly surprised to find that he's warm to the touch. The stories about him having a high metabolism must be true. "Besides, it's been a couple of years since I last used sign language, so I'm a little rusty." He grins and blushes, that's when she notices that her hands are still over his arm. She gives him a little pat and moves away. "Ok, now that we can communicate better, I'll need to ask you a few more questions. That ok?"

 _"Sure, ok."_

"What's the last thing you remember?" his brows furrow and he rubs the heel of his palm over his left eye.

 _"I think…"_ he pauses and closes his eyes. _"Talking to Peggy, maybe?"_

"Peggy?"

 _"Agent Peggy Carter."_ Natasha blinks, does he mean Former Director Peggy Carter from SHIELD? That wasn't on the files. " _We were planning to go dancing…"_ his hands stop and his face goes slack. That's when Natasha realizes why the captain was taking things so well, he hadn't remembered what had happened. Hands trembling, he starts signing again. _"How much time has passed?"_

She takes in his features, the trepidation in his milky eyes, the straight line of his lips, the way his hands tremble as he fists the upper sheet; and Natasha has the urge to lie, to protect him from the cruel reality of the world. But she knows that it will only hurt him more in the long run. So she buries the urge deep inside and brings forward the nurturing and empathetic side. She approaches his bed slowly and sits on the edge again, uncurling his fingers from the bed sheets and encasing one of his hands between her own. The trembling increases and his eyes grow misty.

"It's almost been seventy years since you crashed the Valkyrie." The silence is almost stifling. He closes his eyes tightly and grimaces as if in pain, lowering his head until his chin almost touches his chest. His hand tightens and she caresses the back with her thumb, trying to offer him some measure of support. "Do you want a moment?" he takes in a shuddering breath and nods. She pats his hand and deposits one of the callers in her place. "Press the button if you need anything, ok?"

He doesn't answer, but she doesn't expect him to. She gets up, gathers the mugs and the tray and leaves the room.

* * *

It's not until three hours later that he calls her. She's in the main room, reading in comfortable silence after she'd threatened the brothers with a scalpel to leave her alone or they'd loose a very treasured part of their anatomy. They'd taken it seriously, and thankfully the others did too because they stayed well out of her way. She almost felt sorry for poor Richard, who hadn't even entered the room before Dan was on him, warning him in a tone not low enough for her not to hear and giving rather gruesome details of how he'd imagined the situation to go.

Rick is still unable to look at her.

When the beeper sounds, everybody turns to her. She ignores them, calmly marks the page she's on and gets up from her place in the couch. She leaves the room without a word, sending a murderous glare to Kevin when he tries to follow. They've all tried to get something out of her –is he cool? Is it true that his body temperature is higher than normal? Are his arms really bigger than my head?–, and then the brothers had butted in and made some really tasteless comments about the captains 'big hands' and, well, the scalpel had appeared in her hand.

When she's sure they wont follow her, she returns to the medical bay. She knocks before entering, but it seems as if the captain can't hear her or rather decides to ignore her. He doesn't try to hide his wet cheeks, or his red and puffy eyes or his runny nose. He has stopped crying, but his breath is still hitched and his eyes are still glassy. He raises his hands, and she directs her gaze to them.

 _"Could you get me a tissue, please?"_ she notes that the trembling in his fingers has subsided, but it's not completely gone. As she hums a confirmation and goes to get him the tissues, she wonders if it's because of his state of mind or the state of his body. Probably both.

"Here…" she takes his hand and settles the box on it. With careful movements, he pulls one out, sets the box on his lap and blows his nose. Again, he makes no effort to clean the tear-tracks on his face. Natasha hesitates for a second –this is a man that comes from a time where forward women are frowned upon– but decides to go with it. With measured movements, Natasha takes the place perched on the side of his bed and snatches a tissue from the box. With careful strokes, she wipes his face, keeping the touch light and careful. He closes his eyes and she dabs over them to collect the stray tears caught in his lashes. His breath hitches, and his lip trembles. "Shh… it's ok. Do you need some more time?" he shakes his head and takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

 _"You never told me your name."_ she laughs softly, and she's surprised when she notices that it's genuine.

"Natalia, but you can call me Nat if you prefer. It's a long name to spell out." He gifts her with a small –but happy– smile.

 _"Call me Steve, then. I never got used to the Captain thing." She chuckles and pats his hand before getting up._

"Will do, Steve. Is there anything I can get you? Some tea or hot cocoa for that throat?" before he can answer, she speaks again. "Wait, let me se how's it going in there." he opens his mouth dutifully and she's happy to see that his vocal cords are in perfect condition. "Looks like you may not need it. Try to say something." He opens his mouth and choughs forcefully for a few seconds before clearing his throat and trying again.

"Um… hi?" his voice is raspy and he moves a hand to massage his neck. "This… hurts."

"Ok, that's good, you did good. Don't overwork them. It'll take some time. I'm going to get something hot for you to eat. So, would you like tea, hot chocolate of something more consistent? Now that your throat is good to go, I think you can eat something solid." His whole face lights up at the chance of something to actually eat and she's happy that he's –more or less– forgotten about the fact that everyone that he ever knew is dead, at least for the moment.

* * *

Three days later, Steve wakes up complaining that his eyes hurt. It worries her, given that he's not one to complain. When she tries to open them to examine, he recoils in agony and she decides to give him one of the ski glasses to lower the light. He calms down, so she assumes it works.

"I know it hurts, Steve, but this is good! It means that you're regaining your eyesight. You're sensitive to the light because you've spent almost five days in complete darkness." Plus the almost seventy years that he spent on stasis, but she's not sure he's ready to talk about that just yet.

"Oh… ok. When do you think it'll go away, Doc?"

"I don't know, Cap; maybe a couple of hours, maybe a couple of days."

"I told you not to call me 'cap'."

"I told you not to call me 'doc'."

There's a second of silence before they both burst out laughing. Steve makes her feel so carefree, so normal, she already feels the ache in her chest knowing that, when the blizzard is over –and it looks like it'll be real soon–, she's going to have to disappear and she'll never see him again. Even more when her bosses find out that she hid the fact that she's been nursing Captain America –the person her trainers and her had been designed to destroy and kill– back to health. Furthermore, that she hid the fact that he'd been found _at all_.

Yeah… her career in the KGB will be finished much sooner than she'd planed. Oh, well…

"Nat? Are you there? Did you leave without telling me again?" she sees Steve moving his head around, as if he were trying to look around the room, but she knows it's to angle his ears to see if he can hear her. "Oh, there you are!" she laughs and reaches a hand to pat his arm.

"Sorry, just got lost in thought. What were you saying?"

he starts his story again, and soon she's laughing at what the Howling Commandos did when they weren't fighting at the front. The first time she'd pressed Steve to tell her about something from the 40's, his face had fallen slightly, but he'd started with something from his youth, and with Natasha's enthusiastic responses and the pleasant memories it brought back, he continued with another, and then another one.

"They may be gone, but that doesn't mean their memory is. The world remembers them as heroes, but to you they were just men, fighting the same war you were. That's what's most important."

* * *

Today's the day. Yesterday the blizzard had passed and they had managed to make contact with the team's bosses and it had been decided that a jet would come to extract them. They feared that another blizzard would strike and the higher ups weren't willing to take the chances. In a few hours, a plane would come, they would pack the equipment and they would leave. Glòria had informed the bosses of their most remarkable finding, and it hadn't been fifteen minutes into the conversation that it had been intercepted by none other than SHIELD's Director, Nicholas Fury. The man had been adamant that the subject wasn't to be breached again until they were on American soil, so the team leader had finished her briefing and ended the call.

Steve is currently helping her pack the medical equipment. He recovered his sight two days ago and now is able to see and not burn his eyes without the aid of the ski glasses. They work in companionable silence, he hums a song from the 40's, and she adapts some ballet moves to the rhythm as she moves boxes from one side to the other and sets the saline and blood bags into a portable cooler.

"What do you think the Director of SHIELD wants with me?" asks Steve suddenly, and Natasha pauses mid step before continuing.

"He probably wants to recruit you."

"Hmm… I hadn't thought of that."

"Understandable, your brain must still be half frozen." Her voice is teasing, and Steve answers with a fake laugh.

"You're hilarious." He closes a box and slaps a big piece of tape over it. "Ok, that's the last one." He moves it to the pile at the side and waits as Natasha sets hers beside it. "Now what?"

"Now we wait."

They don't have to wait long, merely an hour later the jet lands and a dozen of muscled men and women start loading the equipment into the plane. Due to Director Fury's order in keeping Steve a secret, they have to wait until everybody of the loading team is already inside the loading bay to sneak him in the cockpit. There's a little VIP area separated from the pilots where the scientists are already waiting, and he seats himself in the seat that's less probable that the pilots will see him if they enter the cabin. Natasha takes the seat next to his before anyone else has a chance to do so. Glòria glares at her and the brothers pout, but she ignores them in order to instruct Steve in the wonders of the smartphone.

When they land in DC, they have to wait until everyone leaves to go themselves and when they do, Director Fury is there. The scientist branch off towards the lab, and Natasha goes with them; she doesn't know if Fury will recognize her, but better be safe than sorry. She regrets not being able to say anything to Steve, but it'll have to be another one in her already overflowing list of regrets.

During the next month, she stays in the US, hiding away from the KGB –who had already sent four operatives to terminate her, none successful– and secretly keeping tabs on the good captain. She knows he'd asked around for her, but she's good at what she does, there's no trace he can follow. Last week she'd seen him sketching her and he'd gone into the Triskelion to run her through the database. He hadn't asked again. She doesn't know what to make of it.

When the assassins stop coming –or stop being able to find her– she says goodbye to the States and travels the world, terminating key operatives and operations and finally to Russia, where she shuts down her training center –something she'd wanted to do since the first year she got there– and finally, when she knows the KGB is scrambling, trying to pick up the shattered pieces of their association, she does what she does best.

She disappears.

* * *

Natasha sighs as she opens the door to her apartment in Greece. She's been here for the past six months, and although this new life she's created is nice and the old couple that have taken her in into their workshop are perfect, she misses the thrill of her old life. Not the killing part, but the adrenalin, the high of a job well done.

She drops her key into the little bow by the door and toes off her sneakers, stretching like a cat. Her spine gives a series of satisfyingly loud _pop_ s and she moans in relief. Next time she'll have to listen to Agatha when the woman tells her to stretch out every once in a while instead of being bend over an engine all morning.

The air shifts and she's suddenly alert, freezing in place for a second before lowering her arms and slipping her tactical knife from it's hiding place. She grips it tightly in her hand as she walks calmly into her kitchen, switching the lights on and humming one of the Greek folk songs Adrian usually sings as he works. She goes about in the kitchen, keeping the knife hidden and when she sees something shift in the doorway to the living room, she spins around and hurls the knife through the air. It nicks the intruders cheek and imbeds itself into the wood. When she finally gets a good look at him, she almost gasps.

"Steve?"

His eyes are wide open, and so is his mouth. A drop of blood trickles down his cheek from the shallow cut she's give him and his hands are raised slightly. He looks good, dressed in jeans and a grey button up.

"Wow…" he mutters, lowering his hands and wiping the blood from his face. "Fury told me to be careful but I hadn't thought you'd actually try to kill me." She snorts and walks towards him, backing him into the doorway. She smirks.

"If I wanted you dead, Rogers, you would be." She grabs the knife and steps back. He blushes, and she's pleased to know that the 21st century hasn't killed that innocence he had. She cleans the knife; the almost imperceptible line of blood in the edge is making her more uncomfortable than she'd like to admit. "What are you doing here, Steve?"

"I've been searching for you." The shy voice pulls at her heartstrings, and she puts on her Black Widow mask. She left without a word for a reason.

"I know. What I don't know is why you're still doing it. You know who I am; you know what I've done and what I do."

"I needed answers." She walks past him into the living room and sits on the couch, motioning the other side.

"Ask away." He takes the seat and waits a few seconds before starting.

"Fury told me you're a spy, an assassin specifically trained to kill me." She hides the grimace before he can see it, she'd hopped that no one outside of the KGB and the Red Room knew about that. She nods, signaling him to continue. "And that you were there to spy on the scientists, correct?" more nodding. "So why didn't you kill me? Why didn't you inform your superiors about me?" she observes him for a few seconds, taking in the set of his jaw and the crease between his brows.

"If you know about the Red Room's actual purpose, the you must know that my training there started when I was seven, just after I became an orphan." He nods, the pained expression of sincere sympathy makes her want to just stop, drug him and run away again, make it more difficult for him to find her again. However, she continues. "Almost two years ago I found out that the same people that raised me, that made me into what I am, are the same people that killed my parents." Steve actually gasps. "It made revalue everything I've done, so I started screwing them over in every way I could without making it too obvious."

"Are you the one that killed all those KGB agents all over the world?" she chuckles, eyeing Steve as he fidgets.

"I stopped enjoying killing a long time ago, but I'm actually proud of those. They were all scum, so don't worry, I didn't leave any kid without a parent, at least one they would miss."

They fall into a strangely comfortable silence, and although she content to just let it stretch, she can see that Steve is getting antsy, as if there's something bothering him and he doesn't know what to do about it. She's about to ask when he gets up and faces her, extending a hand towards her

"Come back with me." She blinks at him, surprised.

"Huh?"

"Come back with me to the States. Fury said that if you were willing to share information about the KGB, he'd pull some strings so you could come work at SHIELD. You've never done anything to target the US specifically, so he said it would be easy."

She stares at the offered hand for a long time. If she's honest, the offer really is tempting. New start, further sinking the association that destroyed her life and made her into what she is now –an assassin, a _killer_ –, a job that will bring the adrenalin she's craving but without the guilt of the blood of a new target in her hands; besides, she'll get to see Steve again, maybe even on a regular basis. Win-win. Or is it win-win-win-win? Whatever.

But, it'll also mean that she'll leave this little heaven she's made for herself. She'll have to leave Agatha and Adrien behind, their little workshop and her apartment. This is the first time somewhere actually feels like home since… well, since forever. She's a little unwilling to give it up.

So, she decides to compromise. She sets her hand over Steve's, but as he's about to pull her to her feet, she tugs towards her to stop him. He looks at her, confused, and she gives him a small, sincere smile.

"Can you give me a few weeks?" he still looks confused, but nods, nonetheless. She's saying yes, but not just yet. Soon. "I'll come to you, ok?" she squeezes his hand and he finally smiles, returning the squeeze.

"Ok."

 **BONUS:**

When she walks into the Triskelion two weeks later, it only takes the agents two minutes before they recognize her and all the guns in the lobby are trained on her, the security team following along. She suppresses a smirk as she eyes them, and she's already formulating the third scape plan by they time they shout for her to drop her weapons. She moves slowly, setting first her two guns on the ground, followed by three knives, the garrote and the extendable batons. She lays it all on a row on the floor in front of her, and the eyes of the agent right before her almost bulge out of his scull.

She straightens and raises her hands to her shoulders, cocks her hip to the side and raises a brow to the man.

"I would like to speak with Captain Rogers, please? Be a dear and bring him here, will you?" the guy bristles and disengages the security lock in his gun.

"Agent, stand down!" the deep voice draws the attention of everyone in the room, and half of the lower agents gasp at the sight of Director Fury himself step forward and face the Russian assassin. He raises his brow at the weapons spread at her feet and looks back up at her.

"Those really all your weapons?" she snorts and smirks.

"Of course not." All the guns, which had started to lower with the director's presence come back up in an instant, and it makes her chuckle. "You really expect to give them all away?"

"I'd be disappointed if you had. Rogers came back with interesting news, something about all the Russian bodies dropping around the world being your doing?" she hums absentmindedly, the smirk still in place. Fury rolls his eyes –eye– and huffs. "C'mon, Rogers' in my office, we can talk business there." She motions for her guns and he nods. Before the astonished gazes of twenty agents, the most dangerous assassin of the globe picks up her weapons, tucks them into her clothing and steps to their directors side, walking calmly to the elevator.

And when she sees Steve's smile light up his face as soon as he sees her, she knows that she's made the right call, if not for them, then for her future.

* * *

 **So? What do you think? Good, bad? Perfect, unreadable? Give me something, people!**

 **About the thing about the Red Room being a training ground to defeat Captain America: I don't know if it's true –if it is, tell me–, but I took it from a really awesome fic in Ao3. I don't remember what it was about, but in the summary there's Hill telling Steve that Nat was trained to destroy him. If somebody knows of the one I'm talking about, please tell me, I would really love to read it again and if the 'training to kill Captain America' is their thing, the to give them the credit they deserve.**

 **Thank you all for reading, and the next one will involve 5-year-olds, make of that whatever you want ;P. Till next time, lovers!**


	5. Manhattan girl & Brooklyn boy

**From:** Myself

 **Idea:** Ten-year-old!Natasha meets Ten-year-old!Steve in the park. He's been lost in Manhattan for the past two hours.

 **Special Request:** It's mine, I can do whatever I want XD!

 **Ups… did I say five? I meant ten XD.**

 **Also… I am so, so, so sorry for the long wait. I just started 1** **st** **BTX (short for 'batxillerat', two years of hell and that the grades I get in them will be the 60% of the grade I'll have to get into a good university, and maybe even win a scholarship, so I want to stay on top of everything so I have the best marks I can get. That, unfortunately, means that the hours I had on reading and writing have dwindled considerably. Don't worry, cause I'm not giving up on anything, but you'll have to be extra patient with me. If I was slow with the updates before, now it's going to be worse.**

* * *

Sighing, Steve gives up and plops down on the nearest bench of the park. How could he have been so stupid? His mother had told him to stay by her side, that Manhattan was more crowded than their little neighbourhood in Brooklyn and he could get lost easily. Why hadn't he _listened_? He looks around, watching as the people pass him by, ignoring his predicament. His eyes cloud over, but he refuses to let the tears fall. He's a big boy now, he's too old for tears. He rubs his arm over his eyes and sniffles.

A drop of water falls to his cheek and he looks up, his lip starting to tremble at the sight of the storm clouds that are covering the blue sky.

"Great, now rain…" he mutters and hops down from the bench and tries to make a run for it to the nearest tree. But then thunder rumbles in the distance, and the groans in exasperation. "Oh, c'mon!" he steps away from the tree and tries to make it to the street and under the awning of a shop before the downpour starts.

No such luck.

By the time he gets there, his clothes are soaked through and his hair is plastered to his forehead. His eyes fill with tears again and he looks up at the clerk, who pointedly ignores him. He shifts his feet and his sneakers make a squelching sound, tepid water sneaking between his toes. He shivers and walks away from the store. He's already soaked and the woman clearly isn't going to help him, so he might as well continue trying to find his way home.

He walks slowly through the streets, looking around to see if he'll see something familiar of somebody will stop and help him. Neither of those things happen, and his eyes finally overflow. The sound of the rain drowns out his little sobs and the raindrops hide away his tears. He sniffles every once in a while and his body quakes with shivers every few seconds. There aren't a lot of people on the street, but every last one of them ignores him as he passes, and the one he tries to ask for help tells him he doesn't speak English and power-walks away.

Little Steve is left there, drenched down to the marrow of his bones, trembling and his eyes red from crying. He hangs his head, resigned. As he passes a TV shop, he squints his eyes to see the hour: 6:26. His mother must be so worried. He coughs, takes a breath of his inhaler and then sneezes three times in quick succession. Looking up, he shuffles to an intersection and presses the button to make the light change. He shifts on his feet, the water in his socks making a squelching sound and he shivers again before sniffling and whipping the snot running down his nose with his arm. He keeps his eyes on the ground, and its not until someone taps his arm that he notices that it's stopped raining.

Well, not really. He's actually under an umbrella. He raises his eyes, encountering first a par of water boots, followed by small, red jeans covered legs, a big, bulky jacket and then, a pair of confused green eyes and red curls. It's a girl, probably his age, and he stays still, staring at her for an indefinite time. She doesn't move her eyes away from his either, and it's starting to make him self-conscious. He shifts, the water sneaking it's way between his toes again, making him shiver. She blinks and cocks her head to the side.

"What are you doing under the rain without an umbrella?" her voice is loud in the silence, filled with confusion. Steve shuffles his feet and looks away.

"I forgot it at home."

"But it's not doing you any good at home! Didn't you listen to the weatherman? He said today would rain, and now you're gonna get sick." He pouts, who does this girl think she is? Normally he would be nice to her, he's the one that forgot about the rain and she's just pointing it out, but he's cold, cranky, and afraid and the only thing he wants is to find his Ma. So he frowns and opens his mouth to tell her to beat it–

Only to a voice to cut him before he can even start.

"Natasha! What the hell, Sis?! You know you mustn't run away!" they turn and watch as two teenagers run towards them, both looking exasperated. One is under an umbrella, has black hair and glasses, while the other only has the jacket's hood to protect his head from the cold rain; he's taller than the other one and has greenish-blue eyes.

"If something happens to you, Mom and Dad will kill us, you know that! And if we're dead then we won't be able to play videogames with you!" tells her the tall one. When they reach them, Steve shrinks back, curling a little into himself to get a little heat into his body and to get away from the teens as much as possible without leaving the relative comfort of the umbrella the girl – _Natasha_ , her name's Natasha– still holds between them.

"You said a bad word, Tony! You owe me five dollars." She grins up at him and he pulls a face at her. Steve sneezes, drawing the attention of the others.

"Holy Shit–!"

"You owe me ten now!"

"– what happened to you, kid? You're soaked!" Tony kneels down and rakes his eyes over him. Steve stares for a second before determining that they're safe and that they aren't going to kidnap him.

"I'm lost. I was shopping with my Ma and then she wasn't there and it started raining and I was wet by the time I found cover." His words come out rushed and trembling. Natasha frowns and offers her umbrella to the taller of the boys.

"Here, Clint, hold this for me." The teen blinks.

"Why?"

"So I can give him my jacket." She says matter-of-factly. The three males start, gluing their eyes on her.

"Sorry, Sis, but not happening. The last thing we need is a Sick Natasha."

"But he's freezing." To emphasize her statement, Steve sneezes again and a whole-body shiver quakes his little body, he coughs and takes a breath from his inhaler again. Clint mutters a curse and bites his lip. "You owe me five now."

"Ok, here's what we gonna do." He pauses and starts unzipping his jacket. "Tony, put on your hood, I'm taking the umbrella." Tony, catching on, does as he says and pulls his hood up before moving the umbrella so it's covering Clint. The taller teen takes his jacket off, shivering as the cold air blasts through his sweater and curls it around Steve. The boys sneaks his arms through the sleeves, noting how it dwarves him. Clint pulls the hood around his little head and then surprises the younger boy by picking him up. "You grab the umbrella." He does as Clint says and the teen nods to Tony and Natasha. "Now we run home so we can get this little guy in some dry clothes."

"But I wanna go to _my_ home!" protests Steve, and Clint nods, surprising him.

"Yeah, and we're getting you home, but we're going to need our parents to make a couple of phone calls." They start crossing the streets of Manhattan, stopping at every red light before continuing. "Your mother must've called the police by now, so we need for Mom or Dad to contact them so they contact your Ma and she can come get you. Sounds good?" the little boy blinks, that… actually makes so much sense! Why hadn't he gone to the police? They would've helped him!

"Ok…"

Steve settles against the boy's shoulders, gripping the umbrella tight in his little hand. He looks over at Tony and Natasha and sees that she's closed her umbrella in favor of a hood to match her brother and has her little hand gripped tight in the older boy's. She's trotting along, stepping in every puddle that comes her way, this little smirk tugging up her lips when Tony complains that she's splashing him. Steve grins, amused, but a sneeze shakes him and another coughing bout has him taking another breath of his inhaler. Clint rubs his back.

"Almost there, pal. You can have a bath, ok? And Nat can lend you one of her pajamas." The young boy just nods and then sniffles.

Mere minutes later, they reach their destination. Steve gapes, looking up at the tower with the big, illuminated **_S_** at the top and getting an eyeful of water in the process. Tony steps forward and opens the door for them. He rubs his eyes and opens them again just in time to see a couple in their late forties storm towards them with matching glares. The presses himself closer to Clint, away from the adults, but it seems as if the teen is doing exactly the same.

"Where the hell were you?! Why do we even bother to get you cellphones if you don't even pick up our calls?! Do you know how worried we were?! It's been pouring for hours, and not even a text!" starts the man and Steve looks at Natasha, waiting for the demand for money but the girl stays silent. Seems like it only applies to her brothers.

"My phone died, Dad! I forgot to charge it this morning and I've been without it since lunch time!" exclaims Tony, taking off his jacket and then grabbing Natasha's when she gives it to him. The woman turns to the other boy, then.

"And what's your excuse– oh!" she blinks at the still trembling boy tucked between the teens arms. "Oh, dear!" she steps forward and presses the back of her hand over Steve's forehead. The man approaches too and sneaks his hand to the boy's name.

"Jesus, kid, you're freezing!" he steps back so Clint can set him down and peel away the soaked jacket.

"C'mon, Steve, let's get you into the shower." Steve nods and thanks the adults for their hospitality before being whisked away.

Clint has to help him out of his stiff clothes before leaving him to his shower. He stays under the scalding spray for as long as his chilled skin can stand it before stepping aside and starting to wash himself. He knows that he should turn off the water, he's wasting and incredible amount of it, but the mere thought of the air cooling just one degree sends him into a shiver frenzy, so he lets it run. He does lower the intensity, though, no need for it to be at full blast.

Thirty minutes later he finally deems his body heated enough to turn off the water and step out of the stall. He grabs the fluffy towel Clint had left for him and towels off. He dries his hair too before curling the towel around his shoulders like a poncho and peeking his head out of the bathroom. The hall is desert, and he doesn't really know how to proceed in this situation, but thankfully, Mr. Howard –or Howard as Clint had told him to call his dad– appears at the right end with clothes in his hands.

"You done, kid? You sure you don't want to be under the water a little more?" Steve nods and then shakes his head before accepting the folded pajamas with a soft 'thank you, mister'. Mr. Howard smirks and ruffles his still damp hair. "Go down the hall when you're finished, Maria's making hot cocoa." The boy nods again and watches as the man returns the way he came.

Steve closes the door and goes about putting on the clothes. Is a standard pajama set in a pastel red with abstract designs in a darker tone. He puts it on, noting that it's actually his size. It must be Natasha's. finally, he gives his hair another rubbing to get rid of the final drops before combing it with his fingers. He needs to move it to the side, and muses that he'll get Mom to call his hairdresser and get a cutting scheduled.

Once he deems himself presentable enough –given the circumstances– he grabs his clothes, exits the bathroom and pads down the hallway, following the voices.

"– right, thank you." A sigh follows and the conversation stops. Steve pauses and listens.

"Nothing?"

"No, they still won't give it to me! How can the police be so incompetent? We're trying to get this kid back with his mother, how can it be so difficult for them to facilitate us her phone number?"

"Don't get frustrated, dear. I'm sure Steve knows it, we'll just ask him when he's done."

"Do you think he misses his Mommy?" asks then Natasha, and Steve blinks. Of course he misses her!

"Well, of course, sweetie. Wouldn't you miss us if you got lost?"

"Yeah…"

Steve decides then to step forward. They all turn to him and he smiles sheepishly, raising his arms to show them the clothes.

"Where do I put this?" Tony gets up and takes them for him, motioning him to the sofa, where Natasha pats the spot next to her and then spreads a blanket over his lap.

"There, all cozy!" she pats his leg and then returns to her cocoa. Tony returns shortly after and offers him a cup.

"So, Steve," starts Mrs. Maria. "Do you know you're mother's cellphone number? We've been trying to get it from the police, see if she'd called, but they aren't helping."

"Yeah, I know it. I tried to ask a couple of people to lend me their phones, but they ignored me." The family frowns at this, but they decide to not dwell on it. Mr. Howard offers him his cellphone and he types in his mother's number. He presses it to his ear and waits, setting the mug on the table so he doesn't spill the hot chocolate with his fidgeting. Finally, the beeping stops and there's a crackling noise.

"Hello?" Steve's eyes water, his mother sound sounds so sad and broken and there's a hitch in her breath, as if she's been crying.

"Mom!"

"Stevie?!" she gasps and sniffles. "Oh, God, Stevie, where are you? Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

"Mom! Mom I'm ok!" he laughs and rubs his eyes, sniffling. Clint drops next to him and puts a hand over his head, ruffling his hair. "I'm good, Mom, don't worry."

"I was so worried, baby! You just disappeared! What happened?"

"I'm sorry, Mom… I got distracted. Can you come pick me up? This people have been very nice, but I don't want to be a bother." Natasha pouts at him and Tony appears from behind the couch, dropping his hands over his little shoulders.

"Oh, please… you're too cute to be a bother." Steve blushes and passes the phone over the Mrs. Maria when his mother asks him for the address.

When Mrs. Maria hangs up, she tells him that his mom will be here to get him in half an hour. In the mean time, Natasha grabs him and tugs him to the TV room to watch Inside Out with her. He hasn't seen it yet, and she's adamant that he _has to_ see it right now. They sit right next to each other on the couch, and Natasha spreads a blanket over their laps.

Thirty minutes later, Sarah Rogers enters the house and thanks the couple and their teens a thousand times before they go get Steve. The sight melts their hearts. Steve and Natasha are curled around each other on the couch, the blanket obscuring half their bodies. Steve has an arm curled around Natasha's shoulders and one of hers is curled around his waist. It takes them almost a minute to stop cooing, snap a picture and then Sarah is disentangling her son from his new friend. He curls into her arms, hiding his face into her neck.

"Thank you so much for taking care of him." She tells them again once she's at the door. She looks at Tony and Clint. "And thank you for helping him."

"It was all Natasha. If she hadn't gone to him, we wouldn't have seen him." Tells her the taller of the two, smiling sheepishly. "Oh, and he's going to have a cold. We tried to shield him from the rain as much as possible, but he was already drenched when we found him." Sarah shakes her head at her child, pressing a hand over his forehead to feel his temperature. Normal for now, but knowing her Stevie that could change any moment.

"Thank you, anyway. I hope we can see each other soon, I'm sure Steve would like to thank you in person."

"Absolutely. Natasha really needs to have friends of her own age." Sighs Howard and they all laugh.

Sarah thanks the family once again and says her goodbyes before one of the security agents escorts her out.

The next morning, Steve wakes up with a fever and asking when he'll be able to see the Stark kids again.

* * *

 **BONUS:**

"C'mon, Dude! I've been hearing about this girl for six years and I've never met her! Don't you think it's bout time that you introduce us?"

Steve looks up from his phone and regards Bucky with an amused smile. His best friend had been pestering him about introducing him to Natasha since he started getting interested in women; he'd relaxed some when he discovered that he swung both ways, but he still demanded at least once a week that Steve introduce him to his mysterious friend. Now it was more about habit than anything else. He was actually relieved he'd waited a year before saying anything to Bucky, because he was sure he would be even more of a pain now if he knew it was actually seven years since he'd known her instead of six.

"Will you stop whining? She's picking me up after school, ok? I can introduce you guys then."

Before Bucky can say anything else, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break and they return to class. Two hours later the bell rings a final time, and Steve shoulders his bag pack, drops by his locker to grab the books he'll need to study for the weekend and trudges through a sea of teenagers. Bucky caches up to him short of the doors of the school and they walk side by side until they're standing just outside the gates of the school's compound.

Bucky scans the crowd walking or the people standing close by, trying to see if he can see someone matching the incredibly vague description Steve had given him about Natasha: redhead with green eyes.

The roar of a motorcycle startles him out of his search and he whips his head around to see where it comes from. A black and red Kawasaki ninja. He's so entranced by it that he barely notices Steve wave at the woman driving it. She stops right in front of them and kills the engine. Half the teen population stops and stares, entranced as she takes off the helmet and shakes the volume back into her blood, red locks. Her bright, green eyes scan the crowd until they settle on him, and her smile grows. Well, not on _him_ , exactly.

"Nat!" shouts Steve, and he grabs Bucky's arm, dragging him to meet the girl. As soon as they're close enough, Steve lets go of Bucky and envelops Natasha in a hug as soon as she's off the bike, dropping a quick kiss to her lips before curling an arm around her shoulders and tucking her to his side. She chuckles and sneaks her arms around his torso, giving him a little squeeze. Steve looks up at his best friend with the biggest grin he's ever seen. "Bucky, Natasha. Natasha, this is Bucky."

"Hey." He extends his hand towards her and she takes it, shaking it for a second before letting go. He motions to the motorcycle with his head. "Nice ride." Steve turns his head to it and nods.

"Yeah, it's awesome! You finally managed to get your parents to buy it?" she gets this little smug grin on her face, and Bucky sees as his bestie practically melts into a puddle of goo.

"Yeah, it took me some work and it's not the model I wanted, but this one is awesome too. I have to share it with Tony until he gets his car, though. That's a pain." She huffs and Steve drops a kiss to her head. "Anyway, we gotta go. You promised you'd come with me to the fitting, there's no way I'm gonna stand there trying dress after dress without someone to distract me a little." She turns and takes out a folding helmet out of the little compartment inside the seat and hands it over to Steve, before putting hers on and mounting the bike again. The blond teen puts it around his neck and unfolds it over his head, grinning at Bucky's still shocked expression.

"See ya Monday, Buck!" he says before mounting behinds Natasha. The motorcycle roars to life and the people that had approached to see it better scramble out of the way as they speed away and down the road.

As they turn, Bucky catches the familiar logo of Stark Industries emblazed on the side of the bike.

* * *

 **Ok, done! FINALLY! (don't laugh, I know you're thinking the same thing XD). Again, so sorry for the wait.**

 **And.. um… I know it's a weird thing to ask but, does anyone play Pokémon GO? 'Cause I need three new friends for the Celebi challenge, and no one I know plays, except the ones that are already my friends, obviously. If someone plays and would like a new friend, please do tell XD.**

 **'Kay, that's all. As always, don't forget to review if you have an idea for me or if you just feel like it XD. Love you, guys!**


	6. Privateer & Pirate

**From:** procastinatingmushroomfangirl in

 **Idea:** Pirate Captain!Natasha and Privateer Captain!Steve are rivals at sea until Nat captures Steve.

 **Special Request:** Tony and Clint (in crows nest) are in Nat's crew and Bruce in Steve's.

* * *

 **Ok, this is written in an unorthodox way. Just bare with me ok, it turned out great , if I can say so myself XD.**

* * *

The waves crash against the wood of the ship, the water splashing over the edge and into the deck. Just minute droplets, but still, Peter frowns and passes the mop over them once again. It's like they never stop appearing! He raises his eyes to the sky when a seagull cries overhead and when he returns them to his feet, those _damned droplets_ are there once again! He groans out loud and buries his face into his free hand, passing his mop over the deck without looking what he's doing. He taps something with the end of the mod, and when he opens his eyes they almost pop out of his skull.

"Captain!" he stands at attention, and she laughs. Captain Romanoff really is a remarkable woman, she managed to succeed and thrive in a world that most considered was for men and she became in a few years one of the most wanted pirates in the world. She's smart, fast and strong; she's an amazing tactician and even a better fighter, she could drop to the deck even the biggest of her crew in a fight. No one that saw her lived to tell, so she was practically a legend. In ports they heard stories of the famous Black Widow, the female pirate that was as deadly as she was beautiful. Most stories told that she was tall and slender, with a big bosom and strong legs. And even though she _is_ slender and her legs _are_ strong, she's rather short and her chest is average. That's one of the reasons she's usually underestimated, and most pay the price with their lives.

"You really should watch where you point that mop, Pete; I don't really care about the looks of my boots, but you should be careful around Stark." That was the thing with Natasha Romanoff: ruthless to her enemies, the perfect combination of tough and nurturing to her crew, specially to the youngest ones on board; he happened to fall into that category.

"Aye-aye, Capt'n." he laughs when she ruffles his hair and watches as she walks away, up to the stern where the wheel is being held by Riggan. The man salutes her with a big, toothless smile and she rolls her eyes and points the horizon. Riggan nods, and the ship shifts its trajectory at the same time he shifts the wheel.

"Parker!" he looks down and to the open door that leads to the captain's quarters and the study room. Tony leans out and ushers _the_ youngest of the crew out and towards him. "Your turn, hurry up!" the girl trots to him, takes the mop and leans towards him in a conspiratorial way.

"He's pissed about something, be careful." Peter nods and fist-bumps the girl.

"Thanks, Lila. Mop over there," he points over to the bow of the ship. "this part here is impossible." She nods and starts working as he moves over to Tony. Hey, just because they're pirates doesn't mean they don't get the proper education.

* * *

"Keep your eyes on the sea, son!" Cooper tears his eyes away from Deks and Askian and returns them to the sea. He sighs, he really wanted to know who'd win! He scans the horizon and sees the same he's been seeing for the past two hours and thirty minutes: nothing. He groans out loud and drops to the floor of the crow's nest.

"But there's _nothing_ in the sea, Dad! This is so boring!" his father grabs him and makes him stand upright again.

"Maybe to you, but you're not getting out of here until your three hours are up. If Lila, who is two years younger, can do it, so can you. So stop whining and keep your eyes on the sea. Maybe there's nothing now, but that could change any second." Cooper looks at his father with a petulant pout but returns his eyes to the sea once again. Once he hears the sound of the spyglass being unfolded, he lowers his eyes to the deck. Unfortunately, the fight has been stopped and he sighs again in disappointment. He decides to watch as the Captain helps the elder to his quarters and then returns, calling for Jackson to straighten the ropes and for Caspian to start sharpening the knives. Suddenly she looks up and her green eyes clash with his black ones.

"Eyes on the sea, Barton!" she shouts and he straightens, looking straight ahead. He feels his cheeks burn in embarrassment when he hears his father chuckle at his back. God, he's never going to live this down.

Ten minutes pass and Cooper is ready to start whining again when he sees a black spot in the distance. He frowns and squints, but it's too far away. Without a word, he turns and snatches the spyglass form his father's hands and points it to the spot. He adjusts the graduation and a big, black ship comes into view. He gasps and tries to see the flag, but the wind doesn't blow in his favor.

"There's a black ship in the horizon, Dad!" he bounces and passes the spyglass over. His father looks through it for a second before cursing and making the bell sound. Everyone looks up at them and his dad leans out.

"There's a HYDRA ship coming out way! They'll be onto us in fifteen minutes!" he's unable to hear what the Captain is saying, but by the way she's acting and his sister's big eyes, it must be some pretty harsh swearing. From what he's heard, HYDRA is an organization with almost a hundred ships that takes children form towns and sea alike and leaves a path of blood in their wake. After a minute of pacing she looks up.

"How big?" she shouts and his father looks again, the spot is bigger now and he can make out the shape without the spyglass.

"Not that big, actually. I thing it's one of their smallest." He yells back and when Cooper looks down he can see the determination fill her eyes. He groans internally, he knows what that means.

"We're boarding them! Get the kids down!"

The following minutes are a blur of coming down of the crow's nest and being swept away from the deck and down to the hidden, most protected room of the ship. He struggles all the way, but to no avail. In the end, he ends inside with Lila, Peter and his very pregnant mother. Unsurprisingly, Mom seems to be the one that's most miffed about the situation, but in her condition, she'd be more of a hindrance than an asset.

The only thing they can do is wait.

* * *

Lila flinches at the heavy thuds coming form above and huddles closer to her mother. She hates when they board other ships, they never let her see and the fear that either her father or her mother aren't going to make it eats her until they come get her. At least her mother is here with her this time, but she still fears for her father and the others.

She really can't wait to grow up so she can start real training and be able to help. She's so sick of studying and watching from the crow's nest, she want's for the Captain to start teaching her how to wield a knife and a sword, just like she's doing with Peter, but she knows that until she's fifteen there's not going to be any of that. There's another heavy thud and a cacophony of shouts, the thundering _boom_ of a canon and Cooper jumps. Peter fidgets from his place seated at the other side of the room. He must be feeling even more restless than her. He fiddles with his combat knife, a gift from the Captain for his fifteenth birthday and rearranges his legs to be more comfortable.

The time passes slowly and none utter a word, but suddenly the shouting dwindles and finally stops, the pounding of boots does too. There's a cry of victory and it's joined by dozens of others.

"Long live the Black Widow!" shouts one.

"Long live the Black Widow!" answer the rest.

They're on their feet in an instant, clambering up the stairs to the trapdoor and running out. Lila is the first out, Peter hot on her heels and grabbing her hand just in case. When they reach the deck, their mouths fall open. There, at their captain's feet, kneels their most hated enemy: Captain America.

* * *

"Shh! I can't hear them!" hushes Cooper. Lila glare at him and Peter just rolls his eyes. He's _so_ thankful that he doesn't have sibling, even though this two come close to it.

He returns his attention to his captain, seated in front of Captain America, also known as Steve Rogers or the most dangerous privateer in the world. The man has dedicated his live to hunt down pirates and the next of his list is the famous Black Widow. Unfortunately for him, she's not that easy to catch. Her ship is as small as her and seemingly vulnerable, but the highly trained crew and the dozen canons in the hold make it almost unstoppable. They're usually underestimated, and that gives them an advantage over their adversaries. After all, who would think that the most feared pirate of the world has a crew of merely two-dozen people and one of the smallest ships in the market?

"Well, looks like you made it, you found me." Her voice is low and light, the way it gets when she knows she has the upper hands. Rogers' tied to a chair than in turn is tied to the main mast in the cargo bay, there's no way he's getting out. He's been stripped from his weapons and clothes and dressed in simple cotton pants, not that he's had much to begin with. Turns out, he'd been captured by HYDRA in a sneak attack three days ago, his ship being surrounded by five others. He hadn't had a chance.

"Yeah, finally managed to put a face to the name. You know, I expected you to be taller." She snorts; after all, everybody does. It doesn't help either that he's practically a bear, with big, broad shoulders and a stature to match.

"That's no surprise. The world has the notion that to be successful you either have to be strong or big, as if being smart and fast aren't good qualities in a fight for your life." She picks at her nails with her knife and then smiles that smirk that sets Peter on edge. By Lila's suddenly straight posture, it scares her too. He really hopes to never be on the receiving end of it. "Looks like being big and strong didn't pay up in the end, did it?" the man glares at her for a few seconds before speaking again.

"Where's Cassie?" she raises a brow and cocks her head to the side, her long, red hair spilling to the side. Now that the battle is over she's taken it off of the braid it had been sequestered the entire day, and the waves distract Rogers for a second before he returns his eyes to the Captain's.

"You mean the girl that was with you?" he nods. "Why would I tell you?" the glare returns and she chuckles, clearly enjoying the man's exasperation.

"I promised her father that she would be safe, she has nothing to do with this!" he struggles with his restrains and growls. "She wasn't supposed to be in the ship, ok? She snuck in, she just wanted to be with her father. Please, I'll do anything you want, but please don't hurt her." The Captain's eyes harden and all amusement leaves her face. She stands, turning to walk away. Rogers looks panicked for a seconds before she stops and turns her head a little so she can look at him.

"Believe it or not, I'm not the monster everybody thinks I am. I've never and I'll never hurt a child, no matter where it comes from."

With those final words, she turns back to the stairs and leaves the man alone. The sibling scramble up and away, running to get back to their duties before Captain Romanoff catches them, but Peter decides to wait. When he doesn't hear anything more, he opens the little handmade trapdoor only he and the Barton kids know about and drops down in front of the privateer. The man jumps and Peter straightens form his crouch.

"You shouldn't have said that." He tells him, his voice gone cold. He tries to draw out his inner Black Widow, and manages it, at least a bit.

"Said what?"

"The Captain would never hurt a kid, _ever_. You just got her in a really bad mood, she's not going to be nice to you now. Cassie won't be touched, but you're in for a world of pain." The spark of fear in his eyes makes him proud, wait until he tells Tony.

"Who are you?"

"Just a kid she saved and has raised for the past ten years." And with that he jumps back to the trapdoor, secures it and goes back to his studies.

* * *

Cooper grumbles as he makes his way across the deck. He's been relieved form the crow's nest an hour earlier, and at the moment he'd been delighted, but now that he knows he's on babysitting duty instead, he prefers to be up there. Balancing the food tray in one hand, he uses the other to open the trapdoor that leads to the lower deck. He walks down the stairs on silent feet, already knowing where to step so as to not make a noise. He hears voices coming from where the privateer captain is located, and he tenses his shoulders. Nobody should be down here.

"You really should pay more attention, Rogers. That was way too easy!" the captain? What is she doing here?

"Hey, I haven't played this game in three years, give me a break." Answers the man and Cooper shuffles closer, peeking around the crates to see Steve rogers in his bound position, with a crate in front of him and the Captain at the other side, a chess board on the wooden box. She has that teasing smirk she gets when she's about to prank Tony and the privateer is frowning at the board. "Uhh… move my bishop to D4." The smirk intensifies and she leans back on her chair.

"You sure about that?" the man frowns before shaking his head, as if to get a thought out of his head, before nodding with determination. "Cooper, mind telling our gest why that's a bad move?" the boy jumps and squeaks, surprised that he's been made. With his cheeks burning, he steps forward and to his captain's side, scans the board for a few seconds before raising his eyes to the blond.

"Check mate in seven moves." Blue eyes widen comically and race over the board, scanning it to see what he can do to win.

"What about… queen to G3?"

Check mate in three." Rogers groans and throws his head back, and his exasperated face makes Cooper giggle. The captain pats his back and steals a piece of bread from the plate.

"Good job, Coop! Have you been practicing?" he beams with pride at her praise and looks up at her.

"Yeah! I even managed to check mate Tony once! He ended up winning, though…" he mutters last, still miffed that he'd gotten distracted by his near victory and gotten sloppy, giving the older man a chance to get the upper hand. His captain ruffles his hair and praises him nonetheless.

From the corner of his eye, ha can see Rogers watch them with a strange look in his eyes.

* * *

Screams tear through the air and Lila shrieks in fright when a big, burly man makes a grab at her. A sword comes in his path, and suddenly her Captain is standing over her, her long, red braid whipping behind her like the tail of an enraged lion. She shouts for Lila to run, to go hide and she does, scrambling to her feet and diving to the under deck. She pants and watches in terror as the captain stabs the man in the heart and lets him slide off the sword as she lands a kick to another that tries to get her from behind. The logo in their jackets flashes in the moonlight. HYDRA.

She sees more men appear over the edge of the ship, and sees as they all run to the captain. She has to do something; at this rate, they're going to kill them all! And then she remembers. She scrambles down the stairs and runs across the deck to the other side, where their prisoner resides. He's looking up, his arms struggling to get free from his bounds. She skids to a halt in front of him, panting and sweating like a pig. Her deep, brown eyes clash with his light ones, and she circles him to get to the knots on the ropes. Once he's freed and standing, she climbs a couple of crates and opens another one, taking two swords out. She turns and offers them to him.

"Please help them." Her hands tremble, the wavering of the blade making it even more visible. Tears prickle at her eyes and she blinks them back. She doesn't know where her mother is, or her brother or her father. They could be dead by now but she has to be strong. She's a big girl, she can do this. She has to be brave, like the Captain. "Please help her!"

His eyes harden and he nods, taking the swords and after telling her to go hide, he goes running the way she came. A second later, she hears his battle cry resound through the air. Instead of doing as he said, she follows and peeks up at the battle. Captain Romanoff looks so surprised that she almost looses her arm, but in the end, thanks to Rogers' help, only two members of the crew loose their lives, and Lila gets to hug her family again. When she finally manages to disentangle herself, she runs to the privateer and hugs him around the waist.

"Thank you!" she presses her face to his torso and he takes almost five seconds before returning it. And when she peeks an eye open, she can see her captain smiling tenderly from the side.

* * *

Cassie can't understand what happened. One second she's in the room she's been sequestered in for the past three weeks, and the next Captain Rogers comes in with a big smile on his face and tells her that they're free. At first she thinks that he's gotten free and that there's a scape boat waiting that will take them back to her father, but it's actually that he's gotten the trust and the respect of the Black Widow and that she'll help them find their way back to their ship. She doesn't really understand how she'll manage that, given that she's one of the most wanted pirates in the globe and the second her ship gets spotted by theirs, she's screwed.

She doesn't voice her concerns, though, because it seems that, apparently, Captain Rogers has a plan. Unfortunately, she hasn't been included in the people that know it, so she's left without anything to do but watch Romanoff shamelessly flirt with her captain all day. It certainly doesn't help that he returns the flirting 100% of the time, and although it was cute and entertaining at first, now, a week later, it's more nauseating than hanging upside-down from the main mast.

"We should do something…" she complains to the Barton siblings, Lila makes a noncommittal noise and continues moping while Cooper's only answer is a snore.

She's gotten rather close with them and Peter, hanging with them and even taking on some chores so as to not feel so useless. Lila had told her she was crazy, but the mere thought of having to lay around all day like she'd been doing for three weeks is repulsive, so there: work. Furthermore, a nice lady has been teaching her some rather awesome moves to fight bad guys, and she can't wait to show her father. That is, if he doesn't kill her for stowaway-ing when they'd left port. Oh, well, maybe Hope can teach her something to knock her dad out and make him forget about it.

"I'm serious, it's so painful to watch!" she exclaims again, this time to Peter when the teen comes down from his three hours in the crow's nest. He turns to the direction she's exasperatedly motioning with her hands, and snorts. Romanoff is seated on Captain Rogers' shoulders and is yelling at him to stay still as she disentangles a knot in one of the sails. They're laughing, and her captain's hair is mused from Romanoff messing with it every few seconds.

"Working on it, Cass." He tells her, patting her shoulder before continuing on his way.

* * *

Three days later at seven in the morning, the four children are waiting, crowded over the doorway of the study room, eyes locked on the door to the captain's quarters. Few minutes pass after the hour mark when the door cracks open and a sleepy, satisfied-looking Captain Steve Rogers emerges and pads down the short hall, completely missing the triumphant and smug looks from the youngster. In the end, Cassie is the first one to crack.

"Sleep well, Captain?" she singsongs, and the way he freezes is so exaggerated that both Cooper and Lila burst into snickers. They can see his ears turn a deep shade of red before he turns back and scuttles inside the room again. At that, the laughter can't be contained anymore and their cackling can be heard all over the ship.

 **BONUS:**

"You're kidding, right?"

Steve just grins and shakes his head, bouncing the seven-month-old baby nestled in his arms. Bucky continues gaping, Sam at his side and Scott just keeps hugging his daughter. They've been searching his old crew for almost two years, so it's understandable. They finally did in a neutral port-town.

"You're saying that you're going to join a pirate crew, now?"

" _That's_ what you got from everything he said? He has a _kid!_ " exclaims Bucky again, now glaring at Sam and pointing at the babe. He gurgles happily and reaches for the finger.

"Well, I think it's wonderful." The three men turn to the newcomer and Steve smiles.

"Bruce! It's so good to see you!" he gives the man a one-armed hug and a pat in the back.

"Likewise, Captain. It's been a long time. Obviously." He adds as an after thought, his eyes on the baby boy. Steve grins again in fatherly pride and combs his fluffy red hair to the side. Little, chubby hands make a grab at the fingers and they sneak down and tickle an equally small tummy. Bruce chuckles and pats his back.

"Well done, my friend, well done." Bucky switches to gape at Bruce and Sam finally smiles.

"I'm proud of you, pal. Never thought I'd see the day! So, who's the unlucky lady?" if possible, his smile becomes even wider.

"Natasha Romanoff."

There's a second of silence before:

"YOU HAD A BABY WITH THE BLACK WIDOW?!"

* * *

 **Ok, so sorry that Bruce came so late, I kinda forgot about him XD. And you could say I hate him (like a** ** _lot_** **), so I made a big effort in not making him a bad guy, so be proud of me, people! Just kidding, but it really was difficult XD.**

 **Also, I'm going to insist on the Pokémon GO thing, I really need this three more friends. If anybody is interested, my trainer code is 4039 7385 8892, feel free to send me a request.**

 **AND! Something I keep forgetting to tell you! If you are a writer, feel free to continue any story that you like and you have an idea to keep going! I just ask to be warned so I can read it! Same goes with artists, if you want to draw something, do so, my only request is that you tell me.**

 **And, clue to the next one: a dance school and children!**


	7. Ballerina & Daddy

**From:** AEMG18 in

 **Idea:** Daddy!Steve takes his twins Wanda and Pietro to the ballet studio of the famous Prima Ballerina!Natasha.

 **Special Request:** No request.

* * *

 **So, the original request only had Wanda, but it hurts my soul that Wanda doesn't have her bro, so I included Pietro. And, well, I thought it was sexist and cliché that the girl is the one that wants to do ballet and the boy other things, so I'm gonna beak that too. Anyway, AEMG18, hope you don't mind. Enjoy!**

 **Little warning: all grammatical mistakes that I make when the kids are talking are made on purpose, just saying. The rest are just cause English is my third language and I'm still at school, so bear with me please.**

* * *

Small, bare feet pound down on the hardwood floors. Steve groans and buries his face into his pillow, knowing what's coming. Not even a second later, the door bursts open –and it's only because of the protections that it doesn't make a hole in the wall, he learned his lesson– and twin shrieks of "Good morning, Daddy!" resound around the room at the same time that two weights jump on top of him, cackling all the while.

"C'mon, Daddy, c'mon! Get up! We have to go!" exclaims the boy and Steve peers up at him. His baby boy; looking more like him every day with his blond hair and blue eyes.

"Yeah, Daddy, let's go! We have to get there before everyone else!" his little girl, with her mother's reddish-brown hair and a lighter shade of his blue eyes. Today it's their sixth birthday, and the fifth anniversary since their mother walked out of their lives without looking back. And despite not even remembering their mother, his kids are the happiest they could be. Well, except right at this moment. " _C'mon_ , Daddy! Get _up_!"

"You promised!" they chorus and finally Steve relents, turning to lie on his back so his kids can nestle over his chest. They gaze up at him with expectant smiles and he grins cheekily. "Daddy!" he laughs and bends down to kiss first one little head, and then the other.

"Happy birthday, Pietro; happy birthday, Wanda." He tells them; a smile stretching up his lips when Wanda beams at him a Pietro wriggles closer. "What about I make your favorite breakfast?"

"Yes! Wait, no! It will take too many time! We need to go now!"

"Wan, it's seven thirty in the morning, the studio opens at nine. I think we have some time."

"But, Daddy!"

"No buts, Pietro. First breakfast, then you make your beds, brush your teeth and at eight thirty we'll go." The children pout, giving him their trademark puppy-looks. Too bad he's immune. "None of that. C'mon, chop-chop." He pats their backs, and when they still refuse to move, he resorts to wrapping his arms around their little bodies and getting up, keeping one kid under each arm and simply walks out of the room, down the hall and to the kitchen. His kids laugh all the way.

* * *

At eight thirty on the dot, Pietro appears in the bathroom with his shoes and blinks innocently as Steve puts on them. As he steps into the living room, he sees Wanda waiting at the door, his coat in her hands and already bundled up in hers and the scarf Bucky made for her wrapped around her neck. By the time he turns around, Pietro is ready too, with his own scarf to match, this one made by Sam. Seriously, those two had learned to knit just to make his twins the scarfs and a sweater for him. They really need to get on with the adoption papers so he can return the favor.

When the door is closed and locked, Steve takes one hand in each and leads his kids to the elevator, chastises Wanda when she tries to go for the button when she knows that it's Pietro's turn and straps them in their car seats when they get to the car. As soon as he's gotten the engine going, Wanda shouts for him to put on her playlist. Pietro protests, but Steve shushes him.

"It's her turn, Pietro. We'll put on your playlist on the way back."

And with that, they're off. As they cross the bridge form Brooklyn to Manhattan, Wanda sings along to Beyoncé, crooning about understanding how it feels to love a girl and listening to her, because she knows how it hurts. Steve isn't sure if she knows what the song is actually about, but laughs when she tells him that he's the best man there is to be as the song strikes it's final cord.

"Thank you, sweetie." She beams at him from the rearview mirror and quickly returns her eyes to the panel displaying the next song before telling him to skip this one.

Pietro is half asleep when the arrive, but the exited shrieking of his sister wakes him immediately and in no time he's right there and squealing with her. Steve thanks the Gods that the studio has a parking for the students, because he's sure they've burst and eardrum and he doesn't wish that to anyone else.

He has to forcibly grab their hands so they don't run to the entrance without him and they practically drag him all the way there like a couple of dogs that haven't gone for a walk in a week. The young woman at the reception looks up when they enter and nudges her partner, who smiles amusedly.

"Can we help you, sir?" three heads swivel towards them ad the kids are off again, tugging their father to the desk and stepping up on the stool put there for that specific reason. It looks comic, how they share a little space made for two feet instead of four and with their little, adorably expectant faces turned up to Steve.

"Uh… yeah. I enrolled this two last week? This is their first day." The twins nod in tandem and the young man chuckles. His partner pats his back and gets up, disappearing into the back door as he types in his computer.

"Names?"

"Wanda and Pietro Rogers." The man types some more and nods, whistling.

"You two are lucky! You got into Natasha's class." The kids blink and he smiles. "She's the owner, she used to be prima ballerina in the Bolshoi, you know?" Wanda gasps, and grips her brother's arm tightly, not taking her eyes from the receptionist.

"Natasha Romanoff?!" Pietro's eyes almost pop out when he nods and practically starts vibrating from the excitement.

"She's the bestest there is!" exclaims the boy just as the young woman returns with three papers in her hands. She makes an impressed noise in the back of her throat when she gets a glimpse of the computer screen.

"Natasha's class? Nice!" Steve pats the twins' heads before they get out of control. "Ok, paperwork before anything else. This is for you, sir, please fill in all the blanks." She hands him the first paper and a pen. She then turns to the kids. "And this is for you. I'm gonna need your full names, age and your sizes you we can get you the proper equipment."

She slides the papers across the counter and Steve smiles amusedly. It's made to mimic the official document, but it's decorated with dancers and ballet shoes so it's more child-friendly. The twins get to work, their handwriting too sketchy for anybody to understand but them and Steve is relieved that the one he's been handed asks the same things as the ones for the kids. He supposes it's more for show so the kids feel useful and like grownups than anything else. Once he's finished, he signs with a flourish and hands the paper back. Pietro glances up and tries to do the same, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth as he writes his names and crosses it over. He smiles, proud of himself and stretches his arm to give the paper back. Wanda takes a little more, adding a smiley face for good measure.

"Thank you so much. Now, time to say good-bye to Daddy and I'll take you to the class." Steve kneels on the floor and envelops his kids in a big hug. He gets a kiss on each cheek and then they're off, grabbing the woman's hands and walking down the hallway. He straightens up and sighs.

"Don't worry," says the younger man. "Natasha is the best, she'll take care of them." Steve smiles at him and leaves.

Today's class is just an hour long, given that it's just a demonstration and that none of the kids has the necessary equipment to do anything, so Steve decides to wander around Manhattan, get a coffee and when it's time to head back buys his kids a muffin each and returns. When he gets there, there's a bunch of parents speaking with their kids, and he sees the twins off to the side, speaking animatedly with each other and gesturing wildly. He watches them with a fond smile on his lips until Pietro sees him and they come running.

"Daddy, Daddy! It was so awesome! Miss Romanoff is amazing and she showed us super amazing things!" exclaims Wanda when they get to him.

"Yeah, and she did our hair too!" adds Pietro, and it's then that Steve notices at yeah, their hair is different. Instead of the wild, 'I woke up like this' mop of blond hair Pietro had when he'd dropped them off, he has it parted and slicked to the side, sinning with gel. There's a little lock of hair curled over his forehead, and Steve doesn't know if it got out of the perfect combing or if it's there on purpose. Given the perfection of the curl and that it also has a shiny quality, he's betting on the second. Wanda's hair is also slicked back into a tight bun at the top of her head instead of the simple ponytail he'd made for her before they'd left the house. There's a blue ribbon tied at the base, complimenting her t-shirt perfectly.

"Wow… you guys look like professionals!" they giggle, pleased, and take his hands when he offers them. They walk out, Wanda skipping and Pietro swinging their clasped hands.

"So, will we be coming next Thursday?"

"YES!"

* * *

It's not until the middle of the school year that he finally meets Natasha Romanoff. The twins have been singing praises and practically writing odes about her, so when they tell him that she'd like to meet him, his first thought is _about damn time!_ Not that he says it in front of them, he instilled a swearing jar for Bucky and Tony, so it would be hypocrite for him to do the same.

"Ok, is there something you'd like to tell me before? Did you two do something?" they beam and shake their heads.

"It's a surprise, Daddy!"

"A _good_ surprise!"

Well, if they say so. Steve nods and tells them to go change so they can leave for the studio. Wanda comes out first, wearing cream tights and the studio's issued black leotard with the words _BW Romanoff Ballet Studio_ in white under the logo: a red hourglass with the silhouette of a ballerina performing a relaxed _arabesque_ , the back leg low so it fits inside the red. She trots to him, her ballet shoes in one hand and her hair 'things' –as she says– in the other. Steve pats the stool next to his and she hops over, placing the hair ties, comb and the ribbon she got the first day next to him before turning the stool so she's giving him her back. Thankfully, when they're practicing Miss Romanoff doesn't require her students with long hair to wear a bun, just a ponytail so their hair isn't on the way.

As he combs and draws it back, Pietro makes his appearance, dressed just like Wanda but instead of the wide neckline in the leotard, his is smaller and with a cut in the middle to resemble a polo shirt. He already has his sneakers and his ballet shoes in his hands. Once he's done, he ties the ribbon around the hair tie and then pats her back.

"There, done. Now go get your leg warmers and the jacket, we leave in five."

The return two minutes later, their legs donned in black leg warmers and Wanda with her sneakers on her feet. They put their jackets and Steve helps them with the zipper. At exactly five minutes, they're out the apartment complex and he's buckling in the twins and then himself. It's Pietro's turn to pick the music, so he puts on his playlist and they tell him about a new kid in their class. When they get there, the twins seem even more eager than usual. They each grab one of his hands and tug him inside. There's some parents there already with a bunch of kids waiting too. Michelle and Peter –the receptionists– wave them and motion them closer.

"You're here, awesome! Go right in, the twins know where to go." They nod and start tugging him towards the hall. The sound of an acoustic guitar can be heard, and the twins go wild. They let go of his hands and run into the last room of the hall.

 _En la terra humida escric, "Saps que estic boig per tu"_

 _Em passo els dies, esperant la nit_

 _Com et puc estimar, si de mi estàs tant lluny_

 _Servil i acabat, boig per tu_

He peeks into the room and finds the woman in question bend over the guitar, singing with a melodic voice and his kids completely riveted a few feet from her. She looks up at them and smirks.

 _Sé molt bé que des d'aquest bar, jo no puc arribar on ets tu._

 _Però dins la meva copa veig, reflexada la teva llum,_

 _Me la beuré…_

She motions the twins and they smile, opening their lips and singing with her.

 _Servil i acabat, boig per tu._

She closes it with a final, lingering note and sets the instrument down. Pietro and Wanda clap and giggle and she laughs with them, getting up from the floor and walks to them. They take her hands and tug her to him.

"Come, Natasha, come! Daddy's here!" she looks at him and smiles, and he can't help but return her smile. She looks young, probably his age, but still a little young to be teaching instead of dancing herself. He'll have to do some research.

"Mr. Rogers, nice to finally meet you!" she says, offering her hand for a shake.

"Likewise. You're practically a goddess for these two, you know?" they blush all the way to their ears.

" _Daddy!_ " he chuckles and they pout at him.

"Anyway, they told me you had to speak to me?" she nods and smiles, settling her hands over their shoulders.

"Yeah, I do! Remember that a few weeks ago we gave them a paper for you to sign?" he blinks and then it comes to him, something about recording one of the classes to send it somewhere. He nods and her smile brightens. "It was for auditioning for a ballet play, and they got the leading roles!" his eyes practically pop out of his skull.

"Really!? That's amazing!" he kneels and opens his arms. They come barreling, almost throwing him to the floor. "I'm so proud of you guys!" they giggle excitedly. Once they've calmed down and Steve is on his feet, he realizes something. "Wait, does that mean that they don't come here anymore?"

"Oh, no. none of that. It just means that they'll have to come in on Saturdays too and practice over the week. I know it's not easy to do so at home, so if you'd be comfortable with bringing them an hour early or come get them an hour later, they could do it here." He thinks it over and then looks down at the twins.

"Well?" they shriek and jump around hugging each other and everything. Steve chuckles and smiles at Natasha. "I think that's a yes."

* * *

Over the next month an a half, instead of dropping the twins off and leaving, Steve stays, watching them practice. They have the leading roles for the Swan Lake, the children version of course, and he wants to give them his full support. He even brings his sketch pad and draws them to commemorate the moment. He also gets close with Natasha, who sits with him during the hour that the twins and two other kids are practicing for the play. Turns out that an expert comes to help them, so she's just there to give the kids her support.

Steve chuckles as Pietro puts on his concentration face and goes about performing a pirouette. He starts sketching his figure, the way he bends his arms and his right leg before performing the jump. He makes the 360º and the teacher claps at him. His face completely lights up and Wanda jumps to him, hugging him around his neck and Steve can't help but turn to a new page and sketch that moment too.

Natasha chuckles from her place at his side and he looks up to flash her a proud grin before returning to the drawings. Andrea, the expert, asks for her help and she goes and demonstrates with him what Pietro and Wanda will have to do for the play. They hadn't been as trilled with it when they found out that they were to interpret a couple, but because it's the children version, there's not much about it except for a hug at the end, so they relaxed. He even drew their scrunched up faces when they'd asked if they would have to kiss; it had been hilarious.

He looks up again when he's finished with the sketch if the twins hugging and he can't help but smile at the sight Wanda mimicking the first arabesque Natasha is holding. He bites his lip as he draws that too, first a small figure and then a bigger one, both in the same position, legs stretched up behind them and faces upturned.

Steve dedicates the remaining time in perfecting his drawing, making the crisscross pattern of the ballet shoes ribbons over Wanda's ankles and the delicate swell of her little arms; the graceful arch of Natasha's neck and the sharp point of her feet. When Peter enters to tell them that the class is ready, Steve is writing his initials on the border of the drawing and setting the sketch pad aside to receive his kids in his arms.

"Well, how's it going? You think you can keep up?" he teases, poking their sides and making them giggle.

"Yes, Daddy!" the chorus and turn to Natasha when they hear her approach.

"They're doing great, Wanda has her part down to a T; you, on the other hand," she turns to Pietro, settling her hands over her hips and looking at him with a stern look. "You need to work on your posture. Promise you'll practice a bit more at home." She kneels in front of him and grabs his hands. He pouts but nods. "Good boy, that's all you need to change, ok? You know the steps and when you have to enter and to exit, you just need to hold your back straight. You think you can do that for me?" he nods again and she smiles. "Awesome. You do that, and you'll be the best Prince Siegfried of history." He brightens up immediately and she ushers them away to change their shoes and get to the class. He smiles at her and she raises a brow. "What? You have to be a bit tough if you want them to shine." He laughs and shakes his head.

"I didn't say anything!"

* * *

A few weeks later, while they're driving back to their apartment he sees the twins looking at him funny from the rearview mirror. He raises a brow and blinks.

"You guys ok?" Wanda's grin widens and so does Pietro's. The boy wriggles in his seat and giggles.

"You're sweet on Natasha!" he singsongs and they burst into hysterical giggles. Steve's ears go red. Busted. He tries to change the subject, ask about the class, but the just laugh harder.

"W-What? That's not true! I–!"

"Liar, liar, pants on fire!"

"You were all mushy with her today! We saw you, Daddy! Heather even asked me if you were dating!"

"We weren't mushy!"

"Yes, you were! You were so close there wasn't even an inch between you!"

the rest of the drive continues in similar matter, with Steve trying to deny his crush on his children's ballet teacher and said kids trying to prove it. When they reach the apartment complex, Steve is both delighted and cursing the gods when he sees Bucky and Sam waiting at the door. Wanda and Pietro fall silent for a moment when they see his best friends before going wild, screaming their names and waving excitedly. They're unbuckling their seatbelts as soon as he parks the car and running at full speed towards them in the next second.

"Uncle Bucky!" screams Wanda, jumping into his arms.

"Uncle Sam!" Pietro this time, doing the exact same thing.

By the time Steve reaches them, they've switched, Pietro hugging Bucky and Wanda Sam, and the blond chuckles at the face Sam makes when Wanda squeezes too tight.

"Ok, guys, that's enough. We all know you love you're uncles but there's no need to kill them with hugs." The kids giggle and let go and Steve knows he's lost why they done on their mischievous grins.

"Uncle Bucky, Uncle Sam, Daddy has a crush!" their eyes almost bulge out. Sam is the first to compose himself and looks up at Steve for a second, flashing him a devious smirk before returning his gaze to the twins.

"Really, now? And who is it?"

"Natasha!" the couple stay silent for a few seconds before they burst out laughing. Steve's face heats up, Wanda grins in satisfaction and Pietro giggles along with his uncles.

Steve, as the only one with a working brain at the moment, goes about opening the door and going up to his apartment, the rest following. It's not until a few minutes after they've entered the apartment that Bucky and Sam calm down, whipping tears from their eyes and flopping onto the couch with a tired sigh. Steve opens his mouth, his cheeks still slightly pink and Bucky snorts, which unfolds into another round of laughter. Steve sighs and motions his kids over to the kitchen so they can have a snack and do their homework.

He knows it's going to be a while before they calm down, so he goes about doing house chores; he gathers all the dirty clothes in the hampers and loads everything in the washing machine. Then, seeing as the dishwasher is done, he turns it off and unloads it, setting everything in it's place and loading it with the dishes of the kids' snack once they've finished. He decides to make pizza from scratch for tonight's dinner –the twins love making shapes with the toppings–, so he puts on an apron and gets everything out. The dough will have to rest for an hour or so, so if he wants Pietro and Wanda to have dinner at their usual time, he has to start now.*

Ten minutes in, Bucky and Sam appear, hands linked and eyelashes spiky from the tears. Wanda looks up from her homework sheet, something about colors and shapes and waves at them before returning to her task. Pietro stays concentrated on his own sheet, writing his name over and over, but waves at them and mutters a soft "Hi, Uncle Sam; hi, Uncle Bucky!" without looking up. They ruffle their heads and Sam seats with them while Bucky goes to Steve.

"Hey." Starts the man, and even though is simple enough, Steve knows better than to relax. "So… Natasha, huh?" and there it is. Steve sighs and kneads the dough for a few more seconds before making a ball and setting it into a bowl. He covers it with a moist kitchen rag and turns to his best friend.

"I don't have a crush on my kids' ballet teacher." He says in his most serious voice, but the image is broken when Pietro snorts. He sends the little shit a glare before returning his gaze to Bucky's shit-eating grin. "I don't!" Wanda looks up and gives him an unimpressed look.

"Daddy, I saw you making heart eyes at her when she was helping me hold my third arabesque."

"The entire class saw you!" chimes in Pietro, a giggle behind his words.

"Looks like you have a crush, pal." Tells him Bucky and slaps him on the back. "You know we're going to have to go to make sure she's good enough, right? We can't have our Stevie dating a psycho." Sam nods along, and he looks like he's barely containing the laughter at bay. The twins straighten up, they're eyes sparkling.

"Yes! Come meet Natasha! You'll see, she's the bestest! She's nice, and pretty, and smart, and funny, and nice and–!" as the kids keep complimenting Natasha, Steve is mentally screaming.

* * *

Natasha hums as she prepares the music for today's class. She loves helping this kids chase their dreams or just have a sport to practice after school. She's been doing ballet since she could walk and it is her passion. Unfortunately, three years into being prima ballerina for the Bolshoi she'd fallen and broken her ankle, ending her career in the Russian ballet. However, not all had been lost. With the money she'd been saving in case something like this ever happened, she traveled a little, stayed in Catalonia for a year before she moved to New York and opened her own ballet studio. Just because she couldn't dance professionally didn't mean she had to stop completely, after all.

She looks around the room and smiles. She'd done it. She has a beautiful studio, a lot of talented students and a loving cat. She couldn't be happier. She hears a distant shout and the pitter-patter of small feet and she can't help but smile. Speaking of talented students…. A second later, the door of the class bursts open and the Rogers twins come in, big, toothy smiles and sparkling eyes as they search for her and when they find her standing by the stereo, they come running.

"Natasha!" she laughs and kneels to their level to receive the customary bone-crushing hug. She knows she shouldn't have any, but these two are by far her favorite students. They're talented, hard-working and absolutely adorable, there's no way not to love them. It doesn't help either that their father is as hot as hell.

"Hey, guys!" she pats them and separates a little, smiling at them before directing her eyes to Pietro. "Have you been practicing on your posture?" he grins and nods so fast that his hair is a disaster by the time he stops. There sound of approaching footsteps makes their faces change completely. Natasha opens her mouth to ask what's wrong but they shake their heads.

"Listen, Natasha! You hafta be real nice, ok?"

"Yeah! Uncle Bucky and Uncle Sam are here to make sure that you're good enough for Daddy so you hafta be on your best behavior!" Natasha blinks, surprised and confused.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Wanda and Pietro huff and make to explain but the voices of their uncles stop them. They all turn to the door and see the couple there. Natasha takes them in, a man with pale skin and long hair, a five o'clock shadow over his chin and an intricate tattoo all over his left arm, silver lines as if it were robotic. The other man has dark skin, really short hair and a kind look in his eyes that sets her at ease immediately. The twins take her hands and tug her towards them.

"Here! This is Natasha. Natasha, this are our Uncle Bucky and our Uncle Sam." Introduces Wanda, pointing at each man before fully turning to her uncles. "See? She's really pretty and loves us very much, she's perfect for Daddy!"

"She's the bestest!" chimes in Pietro, swinging the hand still wrapped around Natasha's. The woman raises a brow and looks at the couple with a raised brow.

"Mind telling me what's this about?" Bucky grins unrepentant and Sam gives her an apologetic look.

"Our little Stevie gets heart eyes at the very mention of your name, so we had to make sure he's taken care of."

"Daddy's sweet on you!" supplies Wanda, making Natasha's eyes widen and Sam to face-palm.

"Really subtle, Wan." Mutters the man under his breath and the girl looks at him with a confused face.

(Un)Fortunately, the conversation is cut when Andrea arrives, followed by the other two students and the twins have to get to work. Natasha motions the couple out and tells Andrea that she'll be back in a bit. As she closes the door, she can hear Heather asking what's going on.

"My uncles are here to make sure Natasha is good enough for my Daddy." Responds Pietro and the girl makes an offended sound.

"But Natasha is the best! She's good enough for anybody! For kings even!" really, this kids are too much.

"Yeah, and we told them that, but they said they had to make sure." Shaking her head, Natasha steps forward and into her office at the other side of the hall, where Bucky and Sam are already waiting.

"Ok, mind explaining what's really going on?" she asks as she closes the door and motions to the chairs as she sits behind the desk. They sit on the chairs and she notes as Sam looks at the smaller chair between the bigger one. The man looks up and gives her a sheepish smile.

"I'm so sorry about that, I'm actually here to meet you. The twins talk nonstop about you and Steve now too, so I wanted to meet the famous Natasha." She chuckles and offers him her hand.

"Well, here I am. Natasha Romanoff."

"Sam Wilson." They shake hands and then they turn to Bucky, who grins unrepentantly.

"I _am_ here to make sure you're good enough." He sticks his hand forward nonetheless. "Bucky Barnes." She takes it and shakes it.

"Yeah, about that, good enough for what?"

"For Steve!" she blinks at the man and sighs, straightening her ponytail.

"You think I'm dating the father of my best students?" she asks in a deadpan voice and gives them an equally impassive stare. Bucky fidgets, caught off guard, and looks at Sam for assistance. His husband shakes his head and raises his hands in the universal don't-look-at-me-pal gesture.

"W-Well I… um… yes?" Natasha huffs.

"Well, I'm not. Do you think you can just come here and judge me because you feel like it? You have some nerve! You have no right and even less to get two children roped up into it. Do you even know what you've done? As much as I love those two it doesn't mean that I'm going to be in their lives that way. I could be dating somebody, did you even think of that?" Bucky flinches because no, he hadn't thought of that. He knows that the twins love their father to pieces, but they've also been asking for a mother and why they don't have one for some time. Natasha sighs, bringing him out of his head. Sam rubs his arm. "Look, Steve is a really nice guy and I'm not going to deny that he's really attractive. However, that doesn't mean I'm going to be anything more to Wanda and Pietro than their ballet teacher. My relationship with Steve is none of their business and definitely none of yours. If it goes to more that friendship it will be on our terms and without you meddling in, am I clear?" Bucky nods and Sam bites his lip to contain the chuckle, he really looks like a chastised child. "Now please leave, I have work to do. Steve usually stays with them in class, but I'm going to have to ask you not to. They have a big day in a few weeks and they can't afford to be distracted."

Bucky nods and gets up without a word, lost in his thoughts. Sam mouths her a final 'sorry' and they leave.

* * *

The following day, Steve appears after she's finished one of the senior dancing classes with a teddy bear with a rolled up piece of paper between its paws. She's still wearing the dress Mrs. Hastings, one of her students of her dancing class, gifted her for her birthday last year. The old woman was like a grandmother –well, they all were– and her husband was a really skilled dancer but unfortunately not a good teacher, so they'd recurred to her and they were always laughing every time she stepped over his feet. Fortunately, Mrs. Hastings, or Jenna as she insisted she call her, was a fast student for her advanced age and had learned the basics pretty fast.

Anyway, Steve appears with the teddy bear in his arms and a completely adorable pink flush across his cheeks right after her dance class while all her students are still there. She's in the middle of reminding for a final time how to put her feet while she turns to Mrs. Costa when Michelle comes in with a shit eating grin and saunters towards her, complimenting arm postures and dresses all the way until she's at her side.

"Hey, Boss, you have a visitor." She looks at the girl, takes a second to process the look and she knows that whomever it is, she'll be in a world of teasing by the time they leave. But she already suspects who might be.

"Who?"

"Steve Rogers, he came ten minutes ago. He asked for you but I had to tell him you were in the middle of a class. He looked like a lovesick puppy." She snickers and pats her cheeks. "Rosy cheeks and everything. He has a gift for you, by the way. And I sent him into your office, he's been there for a while."

Natasha sighs and waves the girl away, ignores the smiles from half her class and tells them she'll see them next Monday before she walks out the door, down the stairs and to her office. She takes her hair out of the braid it's been trapped in and combs it with her fingers, it's gotten too loose and she has another class in fifteen minutes so she has to redo it. She enters her office in a hurry, making Steve jump from his place seated in one of the chairs.

"Steve, hey; sorry to keep you waiting, I was in a senior dancing class." She gifts him a smiles and circles her desk, opening the drawer where she keeps her hair products and grabs her comb. "What are you doing here? Is everything ok with the twins?" she combs her hair and then braids it, snapping the hair tie in place.

"No, no, all's good. I just came to apologize for yesterday." She looks up at him and his blush intensifies as he offers her the plushy. "I was going to bring flowers, but I thought that it was too cliché." She smiles and takes the bear, smoothing over the fur at the top of the head and peeking into the rolled up paper. She can see some lines, but she can't make out the image.

"And this?"

"Oh, I made it." She looks up and he chuckles nervously, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. She slides it out of the circle of the teddy bear's paws and sets it aside so she can unroll the paper.

It's a drawing, multiple actually, all of herself. The paper is big, almost doubling the size of the one he usually brings to the classes so there's enough space for three full figures and small but intricate doodles around them. The first is similar to the one he showed her of her with Wanda, only that now the child isn't present. The lines are smooth, from the upturn of her nose and the slope of her arms to the points of her feet and the ribbons around her ankles. The second one shows her mid stretch, she's seated on the ground and her upper body is draped over her left leg, her elbows almost touching the points of her feet. Her eyes are closed and it almost looks as if she's asleep, with the shadows of her lashes over her cheeks and the line of her spine completely relaxed. And the third one is as she's mid turn in a pirouette, her eyes sparkling and the curve of her arms casting a shadow over her abdomen. Her tail of hair is in the air and in a big curl as if it's performing it's own dance.

Her mouth falls open. The drawings are amazing, they look so real it's almost as if you put it on pause and it will continue if you wish of it to do so. She's almost afraid of touching it and smudging the pencil, but then she notices the fine shine and figures out that he'd probably varnished so it wouldn't degrade.

"This is… amazing…" she murmurs as she traces the line of her spine; it goes downwards to the little curve of her lower back and then slightly higher to her bottom and then continue with her raised leg. She looks back at him and gifts him with a shy smile. "Thank you." Her eyes flicker for a second to the plushy and ads as well. "And don't worry, I wasn't actually mad about that. They just caught me by surprise, it's all."

"Still, I'm sorry. Though from what I heard Bucky got an earful for it, so…" she chuckles along with him. She eyes him as he looks around the room; his smile is truly beautiful and they way his muscles bulge under the impossibly tight shirt makes her think about what Bucky had told her. If he _was_ as attracted to her as she was to him, maybe…

No, bad Natasha. This is Steve, the father of two of her students. So what it he's hot, sweet, a great father and temptingly single? She's a professional, and that means not lusting over the parents of her students. Her resolve shatters when he ruffles his hair and looks back at her, the blush still present and a shy smile. Ok, maybe she can, and she already has his kids' stamp of approval, so she might as well make the most of it.

"So… yesterday I got some interesting information." She informs casually, checking her phone to see how much time she has left before her next class; ten minutes. Well, she'll have to be fast. She doesn't even bother to hide the smirk when his flush darkens and his back goes rigid.

"O-Oh, yeah?" he swallows painfully. "What's that?"

"Apparently, you have a crush on me." Her smirk morphs into a sweet smile; unfortunately, Steve has his eyes closed as he groans so he misses it. "Hey, c'mon, it's not so bad." She circles the desk until she's in front of him and looks up at him with a teasing smiles. "I think you're handsome, too." She stretches up on her tiptoes and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. He gapes at her, a surprised and disbelieving look on his eyes. "How about we have coffee someday and see how it goes?" he nods slowly, a small, sweet smile pulling his lips upwards. " Awesome! I have to go now, see you tomorrow?" he nods again and she kisses his cheek once more before dashing to the door. Before she leaves, she turns and winks at him. "I'll give you a call to get that date set up."

* * *

A few days later, during a couple of hours in the morning when Natasha doesn't have any classes scheduled and the twins are at school they meet up in Steve's favorite cafeteria for a pastry and hot chocolate, because both were craving something sweet and he said that the best hot chocolate in New York was in Brooklyn. When he'd told her as they walked there she'd scoffed, but now that she's tried it she tells him that she'll be a regular from now on. He laughs and flags down a waiter so he can get them the "bomb". Natasha raises a brow, but Steve just grins and keeps his mouth shut. Ten minutes later, the same waiter comes out of the kitchen with a giant cup** of hot chocolate and sets it carefully on the table. It has whipped cream in some places to mimic land, a little plastic boat on the chocolate and figurines resting on the cream and the boat.

"Ok, wow…" laughs Natasha before grabbing her phone and snapping a picture. "I am definitely coming back here. Steve smiles and offers her a spoon and the waiter returns with two straws big enough for the cup. The start eating, drinking with the straws and scooping up cream with the spoons. The little boat sways and Natasha pushes it out of the way with a chuckle. "These are so cute! Can I keep them?" Steve laughs and scoops one of the little people out of the whipped cream.

"Of course, you should see the twins' collection. They change them every month, so we come once or twice to have breakfast here and they can have the new ones. The owner calls them the 'Bomb Twins'." They share another laugh and then Natasha asks about the kids life, how are they at school and their likes and dislikes. Then she asks about Steve's and finally he gets to ask about hers. The waiter appears at some point and gives Natasha a moist towel to clan the figurines and asks if she'd like the box. She does and he comes back moments later with it. She puts everything where it should and looks at the time.

"I really should get going, I have a class in half an hour and I have to change." She asks for the check and turns to Steve, who is already taking out his wallet. "Oh, no way! I'm paying." He frowns and she hushes him. "No pouting, I invited you, I'm paying. You can pay for next time." She winks at him and accepts the check from the waiter and gives the man the money and a reasonable tip. She gets up, grabs the box and wiggles her fingers at him until he takes her hand and she can tug him up and out of the cafeteria.

"Technically, I took you here." He complains Steve once again. She grins and swings their clasped hands.

"Oh, c'mon, stop whining. We can go out another day and then you can pay. Deal?" he pretends to think it over for a few seconds before nodding, satisfied. They reach Natasha's car and she looks up at him with a sweet smile. "You want me to drop you off somewhere?" he thinks it over, he really should drop by the office and let his boss know he's still alive and turn over some of his finished projects, but he really doesn't feel like it.

"Nah, don't worry. I live a couple of blocks from here, I'll be fine."

"Don't you have to go to work?" asks Natasha then, confused. She opens the car and puts her purse and the box with the toys in the passenger seat.

"I work from home, remember?"

"Oh, right! I forgot." He snorts and shakes his head in fond exasperations. He hesitates for a second before leaning over and pressing a sweet and chaste kiss onto her lips. As he separates, his lips stretch up into a goofy smile. Natasha blinks and huff, a soft blush rising to her cheeks. "Oh, shut up." They laugh together and Natasha gives him a fast kiss before entering the car. She rolls down the windows and basks in the sight of a matching blush spreading over Steve's cheeks before speaking again. "Give me a call when you decide what to do next, 'kay?" Steve nods and grins before waiving as she speeds off.

* * *

Two months later, Steve is holed up in his study, riding an inspiration wave. He's in front of an easel; smoothing paint over an already traced drawing of a woman curled up on a couch, her hair piled up on top of her head in a messy bun. She has a book on her lap and one hand is twirling a lock of hair absentmindedly, the arm covering her face. She's dressed in a hoody much too big for her, the edge draped over her knees and leaving the rest of her naked legs to the air.

Steve smudges the edges so the only thing that's neat is the woman, making it impossible to stray form her. He changes the brush to a smaller one and starts painting her, red hair, pale skin, and grey hoody. Then he ads the smaller details: copper strands in her hair, a twinkle in her ear, the shadows of the soft afternoon light, the creases on the cloth. Finally, when he's certain that the paint of her wrist is dry, he makes a little silver chain and two charms: an N, and a ballet shoe.

He leans back and takes a deep breath, setting his tools aside and stepping back to admire the piece. He scratches his arm, where paint had found it's way in his frenzy to make the painting. He can feel more spots all over his body, but right now he couldn't care less. He looks over to the side, where four more paintings are drying away from the floor and small, grabby hands. They're all of the same woman, all of them in various domestic states: stretched on a bed, leaning on the railing of a balcony, seated on a kitchen counter with a coffee mug clasped in her hands and the most important one: dressed in tights and leotards, arms stretched to the sides and performing a deep bow.

He's just finished setting the last of the paintings with the others to dry when there's a knock on the door before it flies open. Wanda appears, clutching something in her hands, Bucky is behind her, a shit-eating grin on his face. _Oh, boy._

"Daddy, what's this?" she holds it up, and Steve's eyes almost bulge out of his skull. It's a bra, a blue, lacey bra that matches with his eye color to perfection. The bra Natasha had worn the last time she'd stayed the night.

"It's… um…" he raises his eyes and sends his friend a pleading looks, but Bucky shrugs and leans on the doorway, clearly intending to make Steve get out of this on his own. He knows of Steve's relationship with Natasha and he respects their wishes to keep it form the twins for a while; to see how things go before letting them know. However, that doesn't mean he's going to help him get out of this one. "It's a grown-ups thing." He decides on before striding to his daughter and grabbing the article of clothing. He's pretty sure they hadn't shed the bra on the living room, so he decides to use the oldest parenting technique: turn the tables. "Where did you say you found this?" Wanda's cheeks light up: Bingo. He adopts his 'tough Daddy' stance –as Tony put it once– and stares her down. "Well?"

"In your room." She mutters, fiddling with her fingers and looking off to the side.

"And what were you doing in my room, Wanda?" really, he loves them to bits but he's going to have to establish some limits if they keep doing that, even more now that they could stumble in some strayed article of clothing form Natasha. Again.

"I wanted to play with the iPad." Steve frowns and crosses his arms. Breaking rules, now? What was happening?

"What day is it today, Wan?"

"Wednesday."

"And what days can you have the iPad?"

"Weekends."

"You know you're going to loose a day for breaking the rules, right?" she looks up, puppy eyes already at full force. "You know that doesn't work on me. Now go finish your homework. Know that I'm really disappointed in you and that you only have Sunday." The girl hangs her head and walks out of the room. Bucky gives her a comforting pat on the head when she passes next to him. When he's sure that the girl has returned to the living room, he bursts out laughing.

"Oh my God, your face! I should've recorded it, it was hilarious!" cackles Bucky as he enters the room. Steve groans and sets the bra on the table, snaps a picture and sends it to Natasha with 'Guess what Wanda found today?' before turning to Bucky.

"You're never going to let me forget this, are you?" his only response is another bout of laughter as his friend leaves the room.

That weekend, as they cuddle in her couch, Natasha brings up the subject.

"Steve, when do you think we should tell the twins about us?" she asks, her fingers never stopping their massage on his hair. He shifts, raising his head and moving away from her neck so he can look at her in the eyes. Her hands fall to his cheeks and she caresses his cheekbones.

"I don't know, I've been thinking about it since Wan found your bra," she chuckles, remembering how hard she'd laughed when she'd seen the picture.

"That was hilarious."

"It was embarrassing, thank you very much." He grumbles, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, I think we should do it soon, imagine we told them after a year, they would kill us." They laugh again and Steve lowers his head to her chest again, pressing his ear right over her heart. "We could tell them next weekend, you could come over for dinner and we'd tell them." She thinks it over, her fingers returning to his hair.

"Sure, ok. You want me to bring something?"

"Nah, just you." He pauses a second before adding. "Maybe you could get some of those pastries we love so much, it's possible that we'll have to grovel."

She laughs so hard that they end up on the floor.

* * *

As expected, when the twins find out that they're together they jump around the room overjoyed and demand that she stays the night so Daddy can make her his famous pancakes for breakfast. She's already had them, but they don't need to know that. They spend the afternoon playing games and they watch a couple of movies all cuddled together on the couch, Wanda draped over Natasha and Pietro over Steve while the couple press their sides together and entwine their fingers.

And when its time to go to bed, the twins ask for Natasha to help Daddy tuck them in. She helps them change into their pajamas, something they wouldn't allow If they weren't half asleep already –because they're big now, and all that–, and reads with Steve the following chapter of their book. They fall asleep cuddled together in Wanda's bed, so Steve takes Pietro and carries him to his room. As Natasha is about to follow, Wanda's little hand grabs her and pulls her down. Natasha presses a kiss to her brow and the little girl smiles.

"N'tasha… will you be my mommy, now?" the woman blinks, opens her mouth and closes it again before gathering her thoughts and smoothing the girl's hair back.

"I would like that, but we'll see how it goes with your father first, ok?" the child nods, and settles in.

She stays for a few seconds longer, smiling softly down at the little girl. Yeah, she would like it very much.

 **BONUS:**

The audience breaks into applause and whistles as the dancers line up and bow, the two lead dancers stepping forward and bowing again, hands clasped together and smiles wide. They're young, around nineteen or twenty and it reflects in the twinkles in their eyes. In the cacophony of applauses, the shout of a young child breaks through and they look down just as the owner of the voice climbs the side stairs and barrels towards them.

"Brother, Sister!" he shouts and the 'man' kneels in time to catch him, using his momentum to twirl him before settling him against his hip. The child is much younger than them, around nine or ten. The audience 'Aww's as the boy leans over and kisses the woman's cheek. He then point over into the crowd and the three siblings see their parents clapping and waving. Their smiles stretch even wider and they wave back as they file out of the stage, the little boy skipping between them.

Thirty minutes later, the teens are hugging their parents, kissing cheeks and even shedding a few tears. They've done it; they're the prima ballerina and primo ballerino of the New York City Ballet.

"I'm so proud of you!" gushes their mother, her eyes glassy as she cups the girl's cheek, turning to her brother and combing his hair to the side. Her red hair is up in a chignon and her makeup is scarce, her pride evident for all to see. " _So_ proud…" the oldest siblings smile and envelop her in a big hug. The youngest clutches his father's hand tight, smiling brightly.

"Love you, Mom," whispers one of them, the sentiment echoed by the other.

* * *

 **And… that's it! Did you like it?** **AEMG18, what do you think? Is it as good as you expected it? I really hope it is. Anyway, I have midterms next week, so I'm not going to write anything from now on. That means that if it usually takes for me to write something in a month/ month and a half, the next one will be two months or more. I know, it sucks, but I need the best marks I can have to get into a good college.**

 **Ok, maybe I'll write something, but like in the study breaks, so not much. I'll mostly read something or stuff myself with chocolate and nuts. Sorry, folks.**

 ***- Ok, I don't really know if pizza dough has to rest, I do know it has to if its bread dough, but I'm not so sure with pizza. I could look it up, but I'm too lazy, so please, if there's any chef in the audience, don't kill me if I made a really big mistake.**

 ****- This thing exists, you can find it on Amazon, it costs 25 dollars.**

 **Love you all and until next time!**

 **PS: the song Nat's singing is "Boig per tu" by Sau, but listen to Shakira's cover, is better than the original XD.**


	8. Wrong number texts

**From:** procrastinatingmushroomfangirl in

 **Idea:** wrong number texts.

 **Special Request:** Embarrassing start.

* * *

 ** _You know, when I was a kid I wanted to be a genie. [Man Genie emoji]_**

Natasha blinks at her phone, her brow low in confusion. She spends a minute deliberating between answering or continuing with her report. In the end, her curiosity gets the better of her and she saves the file, shuts down the laptop and grabs her phone, throwing herself onto the couch as she answers.

 **Ok, I'll bite: why?**

 ** _Well, I saw this really cool movie with a genie and he was awesome and made tricks and could fly and grant wishes!_**

 ** _And I thought, 'Hey, I wanna do that!'_**

Natasha snorts, typical Steve. Since she's known him, he always opens up their conversations with a weird quip –'I spent five months thinking that the poop emoji was actually chocolate ice cream' or 'did you know that some monkeys prostitute themselves in exchange of parasite cleaning?'–. Oh, and a dumb emoji; can't forget _that_.

 **Really now? Didn't you want to be a firefighter or a vet like all the normal kids?**

 ** _Well, I wasn't normal, so no. [Winking Face With Tongue emoji]_**

Natasha shakes her head in fond exasperation and smiles to her screen.

 ** _Anyway, anything new?_**

 **Not really. Boss #2 is being a pain in the ass (as always, so no surprise there), and the kids are doing excellent.**

 **Here, wait.**

She opens the albums and selects one of the videos of Wednesday's class, makes sure that there aren't any faces visible and sends it to him. She has loved ballet since she was a kid; had it been possible, she would've danced even before she walked. Unfortunately, not many can pursue a dancing career, so she went to law school instead and kept ballet as a hobby. And for five years she's been doing so in a youth center for disadvantaged kids that can't pay for extracurricular activities. She also volunteers in a nursing home, teaching the senior citizens how to shake their hips to the beat.

 ** _Wow! They're getting good! You going to do a recital on Christmas?_**

Natasha sighs sadly. She really would like that, but unfortunately it wouldn't be possible. If the parents couldn't pay for the classes, they couldn't pay for all the things a recital needed.

 **I don't think so. The parents don't have the money and it's too much for me alone. It's fine with just the shoes and the leotards, but I can't pay for a recital.**

 **Maybe I'll just make them get everything cleaned up, I'll do something fancy with their hairs, makeup and we'll do a small performance for their parents.**

Steve takes almost a minute to respond, so Natasha uses the time to get a glass of water from the kitchen. When she returns, his answer is waiting for her.

 ** _I'm sure that would make them really happy! You should try!_**

 **Yeah, I'll ask the kids tomorrow what they think about it.**

The rest of their conversation is about their next movie night and what film should they watch. In the end, they decide on The Christmas Chronicles; you know, to start with the Christmas' spirit!

By the time they say their 'goodbye's, it's almost midnight and Natasha chastises herself for loosing track of time. Tomorrow she has to get up early and go to the office to finish with her report for Pepper and then she has to spend practically the entire day glued to Tony to make sure he doesn't say anything stupid in front of the judge. Really, they don't pay her nearly enough. If she manages to get through the day without strangling Tony, she'll ask for a raise.

* * *

"– and remember to work on the life portraits during the weekend, I want the rough drafts on my desk by Tuesday maximum! Oh, and if you can get Christmas into it you'll get an extra point!" the class nods almost in sync and starts gathering their supplies just as the bell rings. His students walk out in groups, talking to themselves about where they're going on Christmas and who o what will be their model for the project. He goes about gathering his own supplies and covering his drawing, the one he'd made to show the class what they should look for.

"Mr. Rogers?" he looks up and sees one of his best students. Lucas is a very talented and hard-working boy, or young man given that he's almost eighteen. He makes a questioning sound to let him know that he's listening and continues setting his pencils in their case. "Could you give me some ideas on what to draw, please? I know what I have to do and how to do it, but I don't really know on what I should focus on." And _that's_ his problem. If an artist doesn't have an inspiration, a muse of any kind, then it doesn't matter how hard they work or how talented they are, their work won't have the feeling and depth it needs. Steve sighs and looks at the boy with sympathy.

"Still haven't found it yet?" Lucas takes in a deep breath and shakes his head sadly.

"I just… I can't think of anything more I could do! I go to the parks like you told me, I let myself get lost in the nature; I went to Manhattan and tried the city and it still didn't work! I don't know what to do anymore, Mr. Rogers!" The boy combs his fingers through his long hair and pulls in frustration. Steve observes him silently for a few seconds before circling his desk and uncovering his drawing again before perching himself on the edge of the desk.

"Have I ever told you guys that I was in the army?" Lucas' eyes go wide and he shakes his head slowly, lowering his bag pack to the ground and mimicking Steve's posture on the closest table. "Started at eighteen and got out when I was twenty-five: three tours, five medals and half a year in a coma. When I woke up, my best friend was dead and I had to go back to live with my mother because I couldn't take care of myself. Drawing was the only thing that I could do on my own, but the problem was that I had no inspiration, no reason to draw. And then I met someone." He pauses briefly, his cheeks heating up slightly at the memory before setting it aside for the moment. "She came into my life with a completely fresh outlook on life and it's meaning and showed me that even in the darkest hour of the night, there's still light." Lucas looks like a little boy, eyes full of wonder and mouth open in amazement. He' completely riveted by the story, and Steve can't help but smile. "A couple of months later, I was looking for apartments and studying to become a teacher. That's her." He nods to the drawing: a woman, surrounded by little blurred bodies, dressed in tights and a leotard and holding a simple ballet pose for the surrounding children to copy. "She's my muse, and she made me see that the entire world can be it too if I just look at it with the right eyes. What I'm trying to tell you is that you can't give up. Get out there, find something that makes you feel or someone interesting and try. Never stop trying, Lucas, because if you do, then you might miss your chance and you'll loose the spark completely."

Lucas stays silent for a few seconds, takes in a deep breath and nods, a determined look taking over his features. He smiles at Steve.

"Thank you, Mr. Rogers. I won't give up! You'll see, I'll make the best portrait of the class!" and with that he jumps up, gifts him with a smiles that could light up a stadium and runs out with his back pack bouncing behind.

Steve shakes his head affectionately and continues tiding his desk. Before he covers his drawing, he snaps a picture an sends it with a ' ** _Guess who? [See-No-Evil Monkey emoji]_** '. Then he cleans the board and gets out, locking the class behind him. He had to confiscate a phone from one of the kids from 1st of ESO*, and it'll stay in the drawer until his parents come get it. As it is, the boy will spend the weekend without a phone. He could take it to the principal, but the woman has probably left already so he won't even bother. He walks down the hallway, down the stars and out the door, waving at the concierge when he opens it for him.

"See you Monday, Bill!" the elderly man returns the sentiment and salutes him. he smiles and salutes him back. He makes his way towards his bike, mounts, secures his helmet and twists the key in the contact. It roars to life just as his phone dings in his pocket. He pauses and takes it out, chuckling at Natasha's text.

 **Is that me?! [Face Screaming In Fear emoji]** (I always use this one for astonishment; like, when I'm super surprised)

 ** _Yep. You like?_**

 **Like? Steve, I love it!**

 **It's amazing!**

 ** _It's not finished, though. I still have to paint it._**

 **A-ma-zing.**

His cheeks turn rosy and he decides it's because it's cold instead of the warm feeling her approval gives him. he sends her the Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes emoji and returns the phone to his pocket. He reeves the engine and drives away from the school, not looking when he hears some of the youngest students, the ones still in primary, wowing behind him. He smiles and reeves it again, raising a hand to salute them and then he speeds away.

He sees them jumping and waving from the rearview mirror just as he turns the street.

* * *

"What are you smiling at?" Natasha's head shots up and she presses her phone to the table before plastering an overly innocent smiles on her lips.

"Nothing, just one of those cute cat pictures." Really, Natasha? You know how to lie better than _that_!

"Really, now?" Pepper raises her eyebrow and Natasha chuckles.

"It's Steve." Pepper's smile morphs into a smirk and she leans over, moving her plate aside to have more room.

"Porn star slash school teacher Steve?" Natasha snorts and covers her mouth as she coughs.

"I told you, he's not a porn star!" she laughs once she gets her coughing fit under control.

"Well, he should be! I still have wet dreams about that picture." Natasha snorts but stays silent. She would be lying if she said she didn't either.

She had 'met' Steve about three years ago, and it all had been because he'd typed the wrong number in his new phone and instead of sending the picture of himself straight out of the shower to his therapist –whatever that was about–, he send it to her. Unfortunately, for him, by the time he noticed that she wasn't his shrink she'd already seen the picture. She'd seen the scars across his abdomen, the jagged lines and puckered skin. And, much to his surprise and embarrassment, she'd answered with a ' **That's hot, you have another one? [Winking Face With Tongue and Smirking Face emoji]** '.

And that's how it all started. Their relationship had developed from there and now, even though they still haven't seen each other face to face, she can say that he's her best friend; right after Clint of course.

"You know, Tony is having dinner right now with a friend of his from school," comments Pepper after she swallows a bite of her steak.

"So?"

"Well, his name's Steve and he was in the army too." Natasha raises an eyebrow and blinks, lowering her fork back to her plate.

"You don't think…" there's a tense silence for almost a minute before they snort in laughter. "Nah… what are the chances of that happening!"

* * *

"– Tony, slow down or you'll choke!" laughs Steve, his eyes filled with merriment as he tries to pry the tankard of beer with Thor's help from the man's hand and failing miserably, both from the death grip the billionaire has on it and their clumsy fingers. Despite his best intentions on being the responsible one tonight and stay sober, Tony had managed to get the bartender to spike his soda without him knowing and by the time he realized, he was already buzzed and didn't have enough functional brain cells to complain.

Tony slams the tankard on the bar and releases a guttural and satisfied belch that echoes around the bar and makes his crowd go wild. Thor giggles uncontrollably and keeps trying to steal the ginormous glass from Tony even though it's already empty. Steve laughs along and leans on the bar, lowering Tony's arm before he can ask for another one.

"No more, Tony, or your wife will kill you!" he's laughing, though, as if the thought is hilarious. He still hasn't met the woman, but from what Tony's told him she's pretty awesome.

"She won't find out, she's out with Natasha!" giggles Tony, finally letting go of the tankard and Thor almost falls over.

"Natasha is _so_ scary!" pipes in the man, brushing his long hair aside and letting his face fall to the bar with a wet slap. Steve smiles dreamily.

"I have a friend named Natasha, too!" his eyes glaze over and his smile widens even more. "She's amazing…" he sighs, his chest heaving with the intake of breath.

"Someone's in love!" screams Tony then, pumping his fists in the air and making the crowd cheer along with him. Steve goes red all over and tries to make himself as small as he can. Which isn't much given that he's a towering mass of muscle.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, my friend!" hoots Thor from his place, finally rising his face from the bar and grinning at him. his cheek is covered in some kind of half-dried alcohol and it makes his beard look all spiky. "Love is the best feeling in the world!"

"Yeah!" shouts the crowd as one. The music changes to a ballad, and everyone cheers at the DJ. The party moves to the dance floor, but the trio stay seated on the now mostly deserted bar. They stay silent for a second and suddenly Steve's phone chimes. The other two turn to him as he takes it out and reads over the text. A big, happy grin lights up his face and he unlocks the phone to answer.

"How long did you say you've been dating this woman?" Steve looks up and bushes again.

"She-She's not my girlfriend! We're not dating!" he shakes his head so fast Thor gets dizzy and Tony crosses his arms, then uncrosses them and grabs the bar before he tips over. He looks as Steve goes back to texting and a mischievous smirk appears on his face.

"Well, we're gonna have to change that, don't you think?" Steve looks up, confused.

"Wha–?" before he can finish, Tony snatches the phone out of his hands and fiddles with it, trying to find her contact info. "Tony, don't! give that back!" he tries to get up but immediately staggers back. "Oh, boy… I shouldn't have done that last sound of shots…"

Meanwhile, Tony enters the contact list and searches until he finds one labeled ' _Nat [Smiling Face With 3 Hearts]_ '. He enters and presses call. Steve's eyes go wide when he sees Tony putting the phone over his ear.

"Tony, don't–!"

 _"Hello?"_

"Heya, beautiful!" he slurs, a big grin on his face.

 _"Tony?"_

… and the grin falls flat.

* * *

Natasha blinks, mouth open in surprise. Pepper frowns, confused as to why Tony would call Natasha.

 _"Natasha?!"_ there's a distinct slur in his words, and Natasha frowns.

"Are you drunk?" Pepper sighs in frustration and raises her arm to ask for the check.

 _"Wha–? No! No, of course not!"_ Natasha nods at Pepper and doesn't protest when the blonde swipes her card over the scan and types in her password. She's paying with the company card, so she doesn't really care.

"Tell me where you are, we're coming to get you." She changes they phone to the other ear as she puts on her coat and grabs her purse.

 _"You don't need to come, we're fine!"_ he pauses for a second before speaking again. _"No, wait, come! I want you to meet someone_!" he rattles the address and hangs up. Natasha frowns at the black screen and huffs in annoyance. "He's at i15, lets go." They hail a cab and spend the entire fifteen minute ride complaining about Tony and the things they do for him. pepper at home and at work and Natasha just at work.

"Yeah, you win." Relents Natasha with a laugh after her friend and boss tells her about what Tony did to their kitchen a few months ago. The taxi stops in front of the bar and Natasha passes her card over the scan. Pepper frowns until Natasha shows her that it's the one from Stark Industries. They exit the car and share a determined look before entering the bar.

The first thing they see is the congregation of people around a table, most likely two guys trying to drink the other under the table. They start heading towards it, convinced that one of them is Tony, when someone hoots at them from the bar. They turn to see the man in question waving enthusiastically at them, face flushed and a big grin on his lips. There's a big figure slumped at his right, long, blond hair all over the place and at the other side there's another one, but he's hidden by Tony's body.

"Tony, we have a flight tomorrow!" starts Pepper, marching forward with a frown marring her features.

"I know! That's why I didn't drink much! See? I was a good boy!" he grins up at her, tilting his head to the side as if expecting a congratulations pat.

"So what? You compensated and you gave the alcohol to them?" this time is Natasha, and she motions at the men at his side. Tony grins, unrepentant.

"Mostly Steve, Thor already drinks more than I do." Thor groans at his side and he leans over to pat his back before he apparently remembers something and his whole face lights up. He grins at Natasha and motions at the pitiful blob that is Steve with a flourish. "Natasha, let me introduce you to my high school friend Steve, former army Captain, he now works at Saint Oak Reeks School as the head teacher of the Arts Department and has an affliction for old movies and pencil-drawn ballerinas."

Natasha's mouth drops open and he stares at the back of Steve's neck for what seems like ages before Pepper nudges her and she snaps out of it.

"Nat, shock later, now let's get this goofs out of here." The bartender comes over and tells them that he's already called Thor's girlfriend and that he'll look for him until she gets here, so Pepper sets about grabbing Tony and nods at Steve. Natasha gives her a pleading look but her friend ignores and starts heading out. She hesitates for a second before approaching and coaxing him to put his arm around her and rise to his feet. He stagers at first but rights himself in the next second, taking some of his weight off of her. She may be strong, but the man towers over her by a head and some and probably doubles her in weight, so she appreciates it.

"C'mon, big guy, let's get you home." She grits out and starts leading him out. She nods at the bartender and he returns it, patting Thor's back to let her know he'll watch over him. The first burst of air make her shiver and Steve's head turns. He presses his nose to her hair, inhaling deep and then letting it rest over her head.

"You smell nice…" he mumbles sleepily and Natasha smiles. Pepper waves her over and nods at the waiting cab.

"Go ahead, he already has Steve's address. Pay the guy with the company card, alright?" Natasha hesitates and Pepper is quick to reassure her. "Don't worry, we'll catch the next one. Tony is more aware than Steve anyway, and Steve is much bigger, you already have a bead of swat rolling down your temple." Natasha laughs, bids her bosses good night and moves Steve into the cab before entering herself.

Steve, still half asleep, merely mumbles something she doesn't understand and cuddles to her once she takes the seat at his side. She nods to the cabbie to get going and the engine rumbles to life. She sees Pepper waving at her and Stark outright laughing at the way Steve is curling around her. Normally she would get out of the embrace, but this was Steve; sweet, talented, supportive Steve. And ok, maybe that had been a front and he was actually like Tony, but that just didn't add up. They'd been talking with each other for three years, and not once had he tried to make an actual meeting or tried to get her picture. Sure, she'd sent him videos but not ever was there a face shown and he'd never said anything. And he has her phone number, if he was actually a creep he could've tracked her phone.

"We're here." Announces the cabbie as he stops in front of an apartment complex. She thanks him, pays him and then helps Steve out of the car.

She has to search in his pockets for the keys and when she finds them she tries two before she finds the right one. She pushes the door open with her foot and it's then when she realizes that she has no idea which floor is his and then the apartment he lives in. she ponders texting Pepper for the information, but then Steve would probably fall over without the added support of her hand. She presses the button for the elevator and pats his cheek.

"Hey, Steve. Tell me your floor." He grumbles and presses his face to her hair. "C'mon Steve, floor."

"Tenth… third door." she presses the button once the elevator arrives and fiddles with the keys until she jams the right one in the lock and twists.

She doesn't know what she expected, but it certainly isn't this. The apartment is pretty barren in regards to furniture, but the walls are filled with works of art and by the style, she's certain most of them are his. She sees the door to the kitchen off to the side but ignores it in favor of the hallway that most likely leads to the bedroom. She rearranges Steve's arm around her and starts moving down the hall. The first door is clearly an art studio, and she sees something that catches her eye but decides to get the man into bed first before snooping around his home. She continues, ignoring the open door to the bathroom and finally to the last one. His bedroom is as tidy as the rest of the apartment, the bed neatly made and a picture of an older woman on the nightstand, probably his mother. There's also one of a teenaged Steve with his arms around another boy, both smiling brightly at the camera. That must be Bucky, his childhood best friend that he'd lost in Iraq.

She shakes those thoughts out of her head and focuses on the task at hand. She moves the pillows to the side of the bed and the covers down so they don't get caught underneath him once he lays down. She makes him sit, takes his jacket and sweatshirt before he drops down, a soft snore leaving his nose. She has to repress her laughter as she gets him out of his shoes and hesitates for a moment before unbuttoning his jeans. He rises his hips instinctively when she tugs them off and doesn't even give herself the opportunity to look before she's moving his legs onto the bed and covering him with the covers. He snuggles down into the pillows and releases a small, contented sigh.

She goes to the bathroom and searches for a wash basin in case he throws up. Once she finds it, she puts it at the side of his bed. And then she figures is time to snoop. She feels slightly guilty for doing so, but she'll probably be sore in a few hours from having carried that man around town, so he kinda owes her. She pokes around his room first, but there's nothing of interest so she more to the studio.

He has three easels set about the room, the first is merely a sketch, rough lines of pencil across the canvas. The svelte figure of a cat stretched on its hind legs and reaching with a font paw to the small hand offered to it, the other kipping it steady on the bench leg. She can see the outline of a few trees behind, so she assumes that this is something he's seen on the park, a child talking so a stray cat.

The second canvas is half finished, there's color here and there and there's parts that you can still see some pencil lines. It's the same woman form the picture in his nightstand, the one she assumes is his mother. She's curled in a couch, a book open in her lap and a streaming cup at her side. Her blonde hair is pilled at the top of her head in a messy bun and a few tendrils have escaped their prison, curling around her ear and over her cheek.

And then there's the last one. Her breath catches in her throat; it's _her_. It's a view from her back and her face's half turned so you can see the profile of her face, the way her green eyes sparkle at the little boy mimicking her pose and the dazzling smile she sends his way. The boy is blurred, as is everything that isn't her. Her hair is up in a braided ponytail and she's dressed in her Bolshoi issued leotard. This must be from the vid she'd sent him last month, the one she hadn't checked to make sure that her face wasn't visible. Oh, well, he'll meet her in the morning anyway, so there's no need to think about it now.

She gazes at the painting for a few more seconds before moving to the desk. There's a thick stack of papers at the side, and she leafs through them. Exams… huh, she'd never known that you could do tests on art that weren't theoric, but apparently Steve managed to do so. And his students are pretty good too. He must be an amazing teacher. She leaves the tests as they were and concentrates on the sketch pad that takes over the center of the desk. The cover's leather bound and his name's engraved on it; it must've been a gift, probably from his mother. Yeah, it looks like something a mother would give to her only child. She opens it the first thing she finds is a portrait of his mother with a Santa hat. Cute. She turns page after page, finding beautiful landscapes and graceful animals. Then there's a bunch of ripped off pages, as if he got an artist's block for some time and then the almost 99% of the things he draws is her. Really, if he hadn't already told her that she was his main muse, she would be a little creeped out.

Deciding that she's snooped enough, Natasha closes the sketchbook and goes to the living room. The couch looks comfortable enough and she has no intention of leaving until they have a good talk. Face to face this time.

* * *

Steve wakes up with a pounding headache and barely any recollection of the previous night. He remembers going to the bar with Thor and Tony, a big tankard of beer and then honey and cinnamon. Huh… that's odd, he doesn't think they ate anything with honey and cinnamon last night. But then again, he doesn't remember squat so maybe they did. He turns to get up and doesn't even question the glass of water with an aspirin that are resting on his bedside table. He pops the aspirin in his mouth and drinks the entire glass before setting it on the wooden table. He looks around the room before getting up, slowly, and absentmindedly kicking the basin aside as he walks out of the room. He doesn't question what's it doing in his bedroom instead of in the bathroom or why all the curtains are drawn shut, letting inside a small portion of the light outside. He doesn't even notice anything until the smell of coffee reaches his nose drills, followed by honey and cinnamon.

He stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide and a leg raised mid step. He takes the last steps to the living room slowly and peeks around the corner. He doesn't see anything amiss, everything is where it should be. Well, except the streaming mug of coffee that's practically screaming his name perched invitingly on the dinning table. He walks to it as if he's being led by the smell. He picks it up reverently, inhales deeply and when he looks inside he notices that it's already half empty.

He tenses up, his senses sharpening. He lowers the cup back to the table. He looks around and listens for anything suspicious. And then there's the distinctive sound of sizzling bacon before the smell fills the air. With silent steps, he walks to the kitchen, and he thinks about grabbing something to defend himself with but he doesn't think a thief would be so stupid to stay over for breakfast.

He really doesn't know who he expected to find cooking in his kitchen, maybe his mother, she "breaks" in sometimes and leaves him dinner done on those days he has to stay at the school later. Or maybe Thor, the guy usually crashes at his place after a night out but then again, he doesn't get up earlier than him to cook. Either way, he most definitely doesn't expect a red head donned in only one of his army shirts, one hand turning the bacon and the other holding her phone, probably texting someone.

"Good morning." He almost jumps out of his skin at her voice. He makes a little, strangled shriek that's immediately followed by her laughter. She has a beautiful laugh. "Do you mind setting the table?" he nods mutely, not that she can see him with her eyes moving from the food to her phone. He starts opening cabinets and taking out plates and glasses. Then he opens a drawer and gets the cutlery. "Did you take the aspirin?"

He looks at her for a few seconds before offering a soft, "yes". She nods, satisfied, and gets the bacon out of the pan. That's when he notices the grilled cheese and pancakes resting innocently at her side. He takes those to and sets them on the table.

"Um… ok, I know I'm going to sound like a dick but: who are you?" to his surprise, she laughs again before turning. Her eyes are like infinite fields of dark green, sparking up at him and her smile is wide.

"You don't remember anything from last night, do you?" he tries to think as she sets the plates and rummages around his fridge, taking out the orange juice. She moves around his kitchen as if it's her own.

"Not really. I don't usually drink that much but Tony spiked my sodas." She snorts and motions for him to take a seat. She puts the plat with bacon and pancakes in front of him and she takes the grilled cheese for herself.

"Typical Tony. He tried to do that to me once but he forgot that I can hold alcohol better than he does." She takes a bite of her sandwich and pours juice in both glasses. "He ended up throwing up everything, it was hilarious." She chuckles, most likely remembering the day and Steve takes a big bite of the pancakes.

"So… who are you?" Natasha smiles and points with her half empty glass towards the hall.

"You tell me, I'm all over your studio." Steve's fork pauses somewhere between his mouth and the plate, his mouth open and his eyes just as wide. Natasha holds her laughter for almost a full minute before she can't hold it anymore and she cackles, almost falling off her chair.

"Natasha?" she looks up, whipping tears with the back of her fingers and nodding, extending her hand towards him and gifting him a shit eating grin.

"Natasha Romanoff, nice to meet you." Steve remains in his stunned stupor for a few more seconds before he returns her grin and grabs her hand.

"Steve Rogers."

* * *

 **BONUS:**

Steve rises from his seat with the rest of the rather small crowd and claps along, his eyes bright with pride as he gazes at the redheaded woman on the stage as she motions the children forward for the collective bow. She grabs the youngest, a pair of four-year-old twins and points them towards their parents, the little boy clutching tightly at her hand and waving shyly while his sister jumps up and down as waves at her family. She then gathers them all close and they all shout together, "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!"

There are a couple of whistles from the back and everybody continues clapping as the kids jump down from the stage and run to their parents, their faces sparkling with joy. And glitter; so much glitter. He waits patiently as parents come up to thank her. He clutches his bag of gifts and goes to her the moment the father she's talking to goes back to his kids. He really needs to do this before anyone can leave.

"Nat, that was amazing!" he gives her a hug and a quick peck. "Could you gather the kids back, I brought them something." She shakes her head fondly and brings her hand to her mouth, whistling to get everybody's attention.

"Kids, come back here for a sec, please! Steve has something for you!"

"Steve!"

"Steve, you're here!"

"Steve, Steve!"

A marabunta of kids comes running from all over the small stadium to where they are and practically throw Steve to the ground. There aren't that many, only twenty-five kids, but the oldest four are fifteen and the rest varies and even though most are small for their age, they have enough muscle power to take on an adult. The parents laugh at Steve's predicament, surrounded by two dozen children coveting for his attention.

"Steve, did you see me?"

"I did awesome, didn't I, Steve?"

"Steve, pick me up!"

"Do you like our hair, Steve?"

"Did you like the dance, Steve?"

"And the decorations, do you like them, Steve?"

"What did you bring us, Steve?"

"Guys, please! Let the man breathe!" manages to say Natasha in her laughter. They quiet down and Steve takes a deep breath before pointing at one of the boys.

"Yes, I saw you, Benny–" he point at another, this time a girl. "–and yes, Carla, you did awesome." He points to another girl. "Sorry, Paula, not right now and Oscar–" his finger flies to one of the younger boys. "Your hair is amazing, I love it. Lisa–" the oldest girl. "The dance was the best thing I've ever seen and I even got a friend up there recording it so I and anyone who wants can watch it again whenever they want." He points up at the little loft where the equipment for the special effects is and a man with glasses and a goatee salutes them from behind a camera. "and the decorations were made by me, so of course they're fabulous." The kids laugh at his over the top, snotty voice. "And I brought you the special Christmas sweets from my Ma's bakery." The kids cheer and try to get closer. "Hold it there, cowboys! Five meters behind and I'm calling your name." Natasha and the parents watch amused as the kids obey immediately and wait patiently as Steve calls them one by one as he takes little boxes with two chocolate truffles with red and green sprinkles and a cookie shaped either like a tree or a present. "And finally but not least, Billy, Dave and Helen," the tree approach, their little faces a little more subdued than the others. "Hey, what's with the long faces? Did you really think I'd forget?" he grins down at little Billy and gives him the box. "For you, gluten free." His smile practically lights up the entire room and he gives Steve a big hug and a kiss. Then he turns to the siblings and gives them their boxes. "And for you two, low on sugar. But don't you worry, they're still plenty sweet." They hug him too and wish him happy holidays before returning to their parents.

"That was really sweet of you, soldier." Comments Natasha as they walk down the street towards his mother's house. They'll be having Christmas dinner there given that his mother loves Natasha more than him. When he'd called her out on it, Natasha had just smirked and hugged herself to his mother, plastering their cheeks together and they both grinned at him.

"They'll love even more the little drawings I made for each of them. I hid them beneath the sweets. I had them laminated and I put a little note behind that said 'turn me!' to make sure they don't miss it." Natasha looked up at him for a second before stopping him and kissing him with all the love she held for him. Since they'd started dating, he'd moved his sketching afternoons to the center. The kids had loved him immediately and he had a full sketch book of only the children dancing. He gave some to the parents to keep, but the rest he saved for his portfolio. He planned on getting everything in some kind of book, sell it and donate everything that came out of it to the center.

"You really are something else, aren't you?" Steve just smiles and blushes. He blames the cold.

"It really wasn't any trouble, just a doodle an Ma makes me a discount for those. I just thought that they won't get much for Christmas, so a little something wouldn't hurt." He shrugs, it really wasn't that much trouble and it put a smile in their little faces, so the one hundred dollars he spent on sweets and the two and a half hours he spent last week making the little personalized drawings were completely worth it.

Natasha gives him another look just as they ring the doorbell to his mother's and she opens the door to a world of sweets and love. He looks as his mother kisses his girlfriend and frets over her for being too skinny. He watches as her eyes twinkle with joy and Steve thinks there's nothing better than this.

There really isn't.

* * *

 **So sorry, I wanted to get this on the 25** **th** **but I forgot my computer charger at home and I was at my uncle's and his house is three hours away, so I only managed to get a little done before the computer died. I came last night and I just finished, so I'm getting this out to you.**

 **And, I'll let you know that I Googled the name of the emoji just so you wouldn't mistake them. Be grateful, guys! XD, just kidding.**

 ***Sorry, guys, but I'm feeling too lazy to try and make the transition form Catalan to whatever, so I'm giving you a crash course: compulsory school is divided in two sections: primary and secondary. Primary are six years, from age six to twelve; secondary –also known as ESO: Escola Secundària Obligatòria– is four, from twelve to sixteen. And then you have the option to do Batxillerat –that's what I'm doing and it's two years (sixteen to eighteen)–, you can do a degree in something or start working. If you do Batxillerat, once you finish you go to university and if you do the degree, after the years it lasts –it depends on what you choose– you can go to university or start working.**

 **I know not many of you care, but if somebody has any questions don't hesitate to ask.**

 **Clue for the next one: it involves anesthesia.**

 **Anyway, Happy holiday (whatever it is you celebrate, in my case is Christmas) and Happy New Year, guys! Hope you're having the best time and I love you all!**


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